


Are You Still into Me

by samwise_baggins, Steve-Bucky-Stucky (Chemical30)



Series: Still Into You [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Medical Trauma, Past Child Abuse, Past Child Neglect, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 76,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical30/pseuds/Steve-Bucky-Stucky
Summary: Five years have passed and Bucky and Steve seemed to have settled into a family routine. But Becca and Tony throw monkey wrenches in the works, and Brock’s abuse comes back to haunt them once more. Sequel to ‘Still into You.’ http://archiveofourown.org/works/8044306/chapters/18425356





	1. Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> The tags will be updated as we go.

Tucking an apple carefully into the lunch box, making sure it wouldn’t roll over the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and squash the bread into a bruised looking mess, Steve smiled. He managed to squeeze in a granola bar, while he was at it, and finally closed the cannister with the _My Little Pony_ picture across the metal lid.

“Steve,” Ava whined, leaning up against the counter, her long brown curls spilling over her shoulders.

Raising happy, vivid blue eyes, the muscular blond man smiled down at the ten year old brunet girl. “Yeah, pumpkin?”

“I already told you . . . Miss Smith is getting pizza for lunch since it’s the last day! I don’t need a lunch!” she explained with an exasperated sigh.

“You did?” he asked, opening the lunch box once more, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry, I missed it. Was I painting when you told me? You know I . . .” his voice dropped off when the girl interrupted.

“Uncle Bucky wrote it on the board!” Ava pushed off the counter and showed Steve Bucky’s messy scrawl on the whiteboard on the fridge.

“Ah, I thought he wanted to get pizza for dinner.” Steve chuckled and took the items from the box. Reaching into his pocket, Steve pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Well, here you go. Do you think that’ll be enough?”

Ava shook her head and shrugged softly, “I don’t think Miss Smith asked for money, Steve.”

“Well, it’s a lot of money to pay for the entire class. And Daniel eats as much as his foster dad. Why don’t you take it just in case? Maybe you can use it to get something at the bookstore on your way there after school?”

Taking the ten dollar bill and slipping it into her pocket, Ava smiled. “Is Uncle Bucky working today?”

Steve chuckled, putting the food back in the fridge, including the small thermos of juice. “I’m not sure. He was up until dawn working on his final report for literature. He’s trying to catch up on his sleep before the summer semester starts.”

Looking at the stairs and then back at Steve, Ava scrunched her nose up in distaste, “like summer school? I thought only kids that did bad in school have to go during the summer? Did Uncle Bucky do bad?”

“No, but adults get the chance to pay to go to summer school and get extra lessons in. That way they can finish their full school sooner than others.” Steve turned and spread his arms wide. “Hug before the bus arrives?”

Beaming brightly, Ava ran over to Steve and hugged him tight before letting go, “Bye, Steve!” She called out loudly as she grabbed her backpack that had been resting against the counter. She ran out of the kitchen and out the front door.

“Oh!” Steve opened the door she let slam and called “don’t forget, get off at the store today! I’ll be working with Tony and don’t know how long I’ll be. Your uncle’s visiting your Mom today!”

Turning around, the bus pulling up behind her, Ava nodded, “got it! Go to the store! See ya later, Steve!”

“See you, Ava!” At least he never called her by one of his silly pet names in public; Steve tried very hard not to embarrass the ten year old. Shaking his head, still smiling, the tall blond artist began packing a lunch for Bucky to take with him to share with his sister during their visit. He figured he’d reuse the sandwich, fruit, and granola, but the juice would have to be put away for Ava for later.

Grumbling slightly, Bucky padded down the steps, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Still half asleep, the brunet shuffled into the kitchen where he heard his boyfriend. “Mornin’, Stevie,” he muttered as he walked over to the coffee pot, pouring himself a large mug of the hot liquid.

“You can sleep in, Bucky,” Steve smiled, pushing over some vanilla and the creamer. “You’ve got an hour before you need to get ready.”

Grunting softly, Bucky poured the vanilla and creamer into his coffee and shook his head, “I’m up . . . God, I am so happy that I only have two more semesters.” The brunet took a long sip of his drink and smiled slightly, already feeling the effects.

With another chuckle, Steve nodded. “Almost there, Bucky,” he said, putting the creamer back in the fridge. “Ava said she didn’t need lunch today? I thought your note said pizza dinner. What’d you do, write it right-handed again?”

Walking over to the whiteboard, coffee cup between both hands, Bucky squinted at his illegible words. Laughing, he shook his head, “good thing I ain’t becoming a teacher. My poor students would never know what I was writing.”

“Well, if you stuck with your left hand, they might have a fifty-fifty chance,” Steve joked. He began to cook some eggs. “Did you want meat with breakfast this morning?”

Bucky took another drink of his coffee and shook his head softly, “nah . . . thank you for helping get Ava ready this morning.”

The blond glanced over at his lover and shook his head, still smiling. “I help her every morning, Buck. I keep telling you, I don’t mind. She’s a great kid.”

Setting down his mug on the island, Bucky walked up behind Steve and wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist, kissing the back of his neck, “don’t mean I don’t appreciate it all the same.”

Laughing, Steve reveled in the soft loveplay with his boyfriend. “What else do you want for lunch with Becca? Or did you want to skip a box lunch, like Ava?” Steve’s eyes danced with his happiness.

Between kisses, Bucky muttered, “Are you on the menu?” The brunet nipped at Steve’s earlobe.

“Not for your sister, I’m not,” Steve shot back playfully. “But for you, any time.” Steve turned and wrapped his arms around the brunet’s lean waist.

Humming softly, Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s, wishing he didn’t have to go anywhere today, that they could just stay at home. It’d be the last time they’d have actual alone time for a while, with Ava going on summer break. “How about now?” Bucky asked, teeth biting down gently on his lover’s bottom lip.

“Now’s good for me,” Steve murmured, tracing his tongue over Bucky’s lips in return. “But you’ve got to be up in about forty minutes. Think you can make it?”

“How about you join me in the shower? We can multitask?” Bucky ran his hand down Steve’s back and caressed the blond’s firm ass.

“I love you in the shower,” Steve agreed readily. His phone rang and Steve sighed, pulling it out.

Groaning, Bucky let his forehead fall against Steve’s chest. _Happened every single time._

“Hello?” Steve answered his phone in his typical query. After a moment, Steve’s eyes widened and his heart pumped faster, breath hitching. “Yes. Thank you, Tony.”

Pulling away, Bucky looked up at Steve, eyebrows furrowed, “what’s up?”

Hanging up, Steve turned a radiant smile on his lover. “Tony said our papers cleared and our review finished. We’re green to go.” He hugged Bucky in excitement.

Heart pounding, Bucky swallowed hard and it took a few long moments for him to return Steve’s hug. “That’s . . . that’s great, Steve!” The brunet forced himself to sound excited, not wanting to ruin his boyfriend’s mood with his anxiety. He’d only gone through with this because Steve had been so passionate about it; Bucky honestly didn’t know if they were ready for this big step.

“You sure this is okay, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang with happiness. “We could hold off until after you graduate if you’d rather?”

“No, it’s great. Awesome.” Bucky said immediately, he pulled away so that he could look at Steve. Truth be told, Bucky did think they should wait until after he graduated, they barely could handle Ava at the moment . . . another child would only make things so much harder. Bucky took a deep breath in order to calm himself down before flashing his lover a smile.

“Well,” Steve said slowly, still happy and smiling, “as long as you’re okay with this. I’ll see what Tony thinks, how long it’ll take before we’re called as a placement for a foster kid.” He hugged Bucky once more. “They need someone so desperately to look out for them . . . and Nat and Clint can only do so much, you know?” Steve felt passionate about helping the families in the Maria Stark Free Clinic.

Cringing, lucky that Steve had pulled him into a hug so he missed the expression, Bucky nodded. “Yeah . . . this’ll be good.” The brunet knew he was trying to convince himself; the blond didn’t need any encouragement when it came to fostering the children from the clinic. Bucky honestly wished that Natasha had never brought it up; the brunet was so busy with work, school, and Ava . . . he couldn’t imagine taking on a traumatized child. Hell, _he_ was still traumatized . . . so was Steve.


	2. Then They Were Four

The bell over the door rang, alerting those inside the bookstore of yet another new arrival. Business at _A New Chapter_ had been excellent in the last few years, increasing greatly once people had discovered that the elusive artist Roger Grant had done their grand wall mural. It had been Steve’s break back into art, and it had fueled the public’s interest in the still mysterious artist. Aspiring artists often found their way into the bookstore in the hopes of meeting the unknown genius, and often ended up buying art theory books and other works on the masters of old.

Pietro cashed out the customer in line and looked up at the door, “hey, Steve! How’s it going?” The young man’s eyes fell to the little boy clutching Steve’s hand tightly, “who do we got here?”

An overly skinny boy with huge grey eyes and short platinum blond hair looked up at everyone and everything with a wide, curious expression. He had two fingers in his mouth and his head continually rotated on his skinny neck as if he tried to take in the entire world all at once. Steve’s large, warm hand gently encompassed the little boy’s other hand.

“This is Kevin.” Steve squatted down and placed a hand carefully over the boy’s chest. “This is Pietro.”

“Steve!” Ava called out as she ran from the back room, Daniel close behind her. “Daniel - -” her eyes widened at the sight of the boy holding Steve’s hand; she skidded to an abrupt stop, causing the other boy to crash into her back, “who’s that?”

Daniel grunted and caught himself on Ava’s shoulders, grumbling, “watch it, Proctor. Nearly toppled me!”

The boy looked up at Ava’s call and his mouth spread into a sweet smile. He dropped his fingers and wrapped them into his shirttail. “Hello,” he whispered, smiling wide, eyes locked on the older children.

With a nod, Steve answered, “This is Kevin. Kevin this is Ava and Daniel.”

Kevin offered Ava his smile again. “Hello,” he whispered and held out his tiny hand, the nails broken and looking like someone had tried to scrub away old grime and blood.

“Hi,” Ava said cautiously; she eyed the outstretched hand warily and shook it once before dropping it and looking back up at Steve, “why is he holding your hand?”

The doorbell chimed again and Bucky walked in, nearly bumping into Steve as he had been looking intently at his phone. “Whoa . . . sorry, Stevie,” the brunet apologized with a soft blush and that’s when he noticed the small child standing next to his boyfriend. Bucky’s eyes widened and snapped back up to look at the blond.

Steve protectively wrapped his arm around Kevin and looked up to see who’d tripped over them. He smiled, full of excitement and nervous energy. “Hey, Bucky!”

“Why is he holding your hand?” Ava asked again, crossing her arms over her chest, not even saying anything to her uncle.

“Because he’s scared in a new place among new people?” Steve asked Ava finally. He turned his smile on her. “Did you want to show Kevin to the children’s tables, Ava?”

Ava’s eyes traveled down Kevin’s body and she shrugged, nonchalant, “okay . . .” she didn’t offer her hand to Kevin; she simply turned on her heel and began to walk in the direction of the children’s area.

“Ava,” Steve called gently. “Could you help Kevin? He doesn’t know where to go and the shelves are over his head. You’re so tall, he’ll lose sight of you.”

Huffing as she rolled her eyes, Ava walked back over and took Kevin’s hand, “C’mon,” she grumbled.

“Ava,” Bucky snapped, shocked by his niece’s odd behavior, “be polite.”

Obediently, smiling prettily up at the girl, Kevin trotted to keep up with her. “Hello, Ava,” he whispered up at her, his voice soft and happy.

“Hi,” Ava grumbled, still not acknowledging she’d even heard her uncle.

Steve frowned as he watched Daniel turn to disappear right behind the other two children. “Why didn’t she say hello to you?” He stood and looked at Bucky.

Sighing, Bucky slipped his phone into his back pocket and shook his head, “hell if I know . . . Steve . . . who’s that? And not to sound repetitive . . . why was he holding your hand?”

Steve grinned and moved over to Bucky. “Tony needed someone to take him in right away. And, since we’ve cleared, he asked if we’d like to take him in? That’s Kevin . . .” Steve drew a breath, placing his hands on Bucky’s hips, “our new foster son.”

“What?” Bucky gasped and his eyes flickered over to where the children had gone, “our - - foster son? Steve . . . ya couldn’t have called me? At least given me a little head’s up? We - - we’ll have to figure out a room . . . I - - I mean he can sleep in Ava’s for now . . .” The brunet pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache already beginning to pound behind his eyes.

The smile fell and Steve looked worried. “Bucky, we already had plans for when we were allowed to start fostering.” He stepped back a little and drew a slow breath. “And I tried to call you. I kept getting voicemail, so I figured you were still with Becca. I know you turn your phone off when you’re with her.”

Bucky frowned and fished his phone out again, groaning, he hadn’t even thought twice about the messages left on his device. Steve still left him updates throughout the day, something Brock Rumlow had drilled into him, and Bucky had thought they weren’t anything of much importance. “We - - we have another kid?” He breathed and ran his hand through his hair.

“They needed someone right away, Buck . . . he didn’t have a parent to take him. No one knows who his father is, and his mother’s been arrested for attempted white slavery.” Steve’s words almost rushed together in his worry. “She tried to sell Kevin, Buck.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Bucky ground out and moved out of the way when he heard the door open behind him; letting the customer in, Bucky gave the woman a small smile of welcome. In a lower tone he asked, “she won’t get out? Come after him?” Bucky felt his anxiety well up at the mere thought of having to go through _that_ again; he reached up and subconsciously touched the scars on his cheek.

“I’m not sure, Bucky,” Steve sighed, troubled. “He’s with us until the trial. But they’ve got some good evidence. The guy she tried to sell him to was Riley. He called Sam and she got taken in immediately. They even managed to get her to tell where she was hiding the kid, since she didn’t actually have him with her at the time.” Steve looked towards the children’s section and sighed, “he was locked in a closet . . . they estimate about two days _that_ time.” Steve turned back to Bucky. “They think I can help since I had a similar . . . problem?”

Bucky shook his head and walked outside, he needed air . . . he’d been having a decent day: he’d found out that he got A’s in all his classes, and Becca had been very pleasant to be around, a lot like her normal self. Now his whole world felt off kilter, everything was going to change now. They had another child to take care of . . . Bucky didn’t know what was going to happen.

Worried, the tall blond let his boyfriend go, not following him, trying not to stifle him. He looked over at Pietro and frowned, worriedly. “I . . . I thought I was doing the right thing?” his voice sounded uncertain.

Pietro put a book on the shelf in front of him before looking over at Steve, “give him time, Steve. He literally just found out that he has another child to take care of now. A very traumatized child, at that. He’ll come around . . . he always does.” The silver-haired man shot his friend a reassuring smile before turning back to stock the shelf.

Nodding, Steve walked over to the backroom where the staff was able to store their gear. He put down Kevin’s file on the table and grabbed Ava’s backpack, checking it, as he always did, to make sure she hadn’t left food or critters in there forgotten. Content that he wouldn’t have to do any extra cleaning of the bag, Steve put it aside, the rest of the contents undisturbed as always. He listened carefully for any sign the children needed him, looking repeatedly through to door right towards the little seating area for children, conveniently placed so staff could always see into it.

Ava ran up to Steve and crossed her arms, “is Kevin gonna live with us?” She asked bluntly, her tone sharp and her eyes narrowed.

Nodding, Steve turned to her and honestly answered, “that’s the idea. We’re fostering him, like Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint foster Daniel and the others.”

“Why?” Ava questioned, “why doesn’t he live with his _own_ family?”

“He doesn’t have a family any more, Ava. No one knows who his father is,” Steve sighed, his voice gentle, “and his mother was hurting him. Remember? We talked about this with you? About taking in kids like Daniel to help for a little while, until they found safer homes?”

Ava rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tighter over her chest, she didn’t want anyone taking away Steve. Uncle Bucky wouldn’t leave . . . he _had_ to stay with her, but Steve could leave. She didn’t like the little boy who held Steve’s . . . _her_ Steve’s hand. “I don’t like him . . .” she grumbled under her breath.

“But you don’t even know him yet, Ava. How can you know if you like him without knowing him?” Steve asked reasonably. He didn’t insist she had to like the boy, just that she give him a chance.

Eyes falling, Ava stomped her feet, much like she used to do when she was little, “I didn’t know he’d be living with us!” She shouted, throwing her arms into the air.

“Yes, you did. It’s why you helped me fix up part of your room and put that curtain in so you could share,” Steve frowned. He never liked to discipline the little girl, afraid it would be overstepping his bounds since she wasn’t his relative.

“I don’t want to share my room!” Ava exclaimed loudly, voice trembling with emotion.

“Ava,” Bucky warned as he stepped up behind the little girl, he’d managed to get his emotions in check. Steve really wanted this, and Bucky wouldn’t be the one to take it away. Plus, it was only for a few months . . . foster kids never stayed for very long; they just had to watch Kevin until someone found him a better home.

Steve reached for the girl. “But, Ava, remember, you were going to help me make another room on the house? You were going to help fix it up for anyone we were allowed to foster.” Steve’s voice had turned troubled, worried. He felt the girl was being overly unreasonable when just weeks ago she’d sounded so excited, prodding about whether the papers had gone through or not.

Whirling around to face her uncle, Ava huffed loudly and threw her hands up again, “but I don’t wanna share my room!”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Bucky said firmly, crossing his arms, looking down at his niece with an unamused frown.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I . . . I can turn my art room to a room for Kevin until I get the addition done, if that’ll help?” Steve looked troubled, voice pleading, trying to bring peace once more to their small family.

“No,” Bucky said quickly, looking over at his boyfriend, “we aren’t converting your art room, Steve.” _The art room I gave you,_ Bucky thought bitterly but didn’t add vocally. His eyes fell back down to his niece, “and you are going to learn to share. Now, you owe Steve a very big apology and I expect you to go play with Kevin. Make him feel welcome . . . do I make myself clear?” Bucky hardly ever used this tone with Ava, but he was on edge and really not in the mood for one of her tantrums.

Pouting, Ava turned back and shuffled her feet shamefully, she didn’t look up at Steve, “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Steve asked softly, not letting her get away with a half-assed apology.

“For yelling at you?” Ava eyes focused intently on her shoes, her cheeks red and eyes brimming with tears.

“You made me feel bad, Ava, did you know that? When you yell at me, I feel like you don’t love and respect me.” He kept his voice soft, but the girl had just graduated fifth grade; these tantrums were beyond childish.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Steve. I love you . . . I’m sorry,” A few tears fell down her cheeks and she wiped them away quickly.

With a nod, Steve held out his arms. “Okay, I believe you. I forgive you, Ava, and I love you very much.”

Ava ran into his arms and hugged him tightly, she sniffled to keep more tears from falling.

Kneeling down to bring himself more on a level with the girl, Steve softly continued, “I know it’s hard to make changes. I really thought you knew we’d be bringing a child into the house, not just letting him play and eat with us. I should have been clearer when we talked about this.” He stroked her head. “Don’t take it out on Kevin? He’s a very scared little boy who was hurt badly by someone who should have cared for him. Do you understand, Ava?”

“I understand,” Ava wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

Chuckling softly, breaking the tense mood, Steve handed Ava some _Kleenex_. “Here, Pumpkin, wipe up your mascara before you look like a raccoon.”

Giggling softly, Ava took the tissues and blew out her nose and wiped at the trail of tears. She threw them away and looked back at Steve, “Imma go talk to Kevin now.”

“Good idea, Pumpkin. I think that’s a very big sister thing to do,” Steve praised.

Ava nodded and turned out of the room, not saying another word to her uncle, still upset at him for reprimanding her.

Steve let his hands drop and his shoulders sag, head bowing.

Bucky blew out a loud breath and leaned against the doorjamb, arms still crossed, “well, that went over splendidly, don’t you think?” The brunet winced at the bitterness in his own voice.

From the dejected pose, still on one knee, Steve’s voice came soft and almost lost, “should I tell Tony to find somewhere else? I didn’t think Ava would be this upset. She sounded so excited a few months ago.”

“Ava hasn’t had to share with anyone before. She’ll get used to it. Hopefully with less tantrums though . . . it was like she was six again.” Bucky shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair . . . it was getting quite long - - he really needed to get it cut.

Slowly, Steve stood back up and sank onto a chair, glancing over at the children’s section worriedly. He placed one hand on the table next to Kevin’s file. “I’ll get that room done quickly, Bucky. Then she can have her own room back.”

Waving his hand dismissively, Bucky shook his head, “don’t worry about it . . . it’s only for a few months right? I think Ava can handle a roommate, maybe she’ll learn something.”

“Should I ask Tony for a girl instead? Maybe a kid her own age?” Steve bit his lip. It wasn’t as if the clinic had a wide variety of ages and genders to choose from. They got in what they did and placed them as they could.

“God, no . . . could you imagine _two_ of those in the same house! We’d be overrun!” Bucky smirked, trying to ignore his own anxiety that pulled heavily on his gut. He hadn’t felt this anxious in nearly five years.

Finally, Steve snickered and relaxed, nodding. “Yeah, that would be a bit much. Then we’d have two of them demanding makeup for presents when we’ve already agreed no make up until the age sixteen.” He smiled up at Bucky.

“Kevin will be good . . . he needs our help - - it’s our job to provide it.” Bucky stated, once again trying to convince himself.

Steve nodded and reached for Bucky, tugging him by the left hand to sit on his lap. “Tony thinks I’ll understand him more than most others would,” he repeated his earlier justification. “And I think you’ll be good for him, just like you’re good for me, Buck. I couldn’t have made it this far without you . . . without us.”

Straddling his lover, Bucky smirked and kissed Steve softly, “damn straight.”

“No,” Steve interrupted on a chuckle, “damned gay.” He returned the kiss.

Laughing into the kiss, Bucky shook his head, “did you really just - - God, Steve.” The brunet ground his hips down slightly, “we got interrupted this morning . . .”

“Can’t quite do this in the backroom of the store. They might never let me back in . . . too distracting to their manager.” Steve stroked his fingers down Bucky’s sides, letting them caress just under the shirt.

“Eh . . . not like they listen to me,” Bucky leaned down to nip and kiss Steve’s neck, paying special attention to the spot behind the larger man’s ear.

Groaning softly, Steve exposed his neck for Bucky’s attention. “Don’t see why . . . you’re eminently reasonable . . . and . . . so damned pretty.”

A loud pound came on the door of the back room.

Heart leaping, Steve froze, hands holding Bucky still so he didn’t fall, but pulling back and looking directly over to the door, blue eyes wide and actually fearful.

“Hey, lovebirds! Nat and Clint are here! Asking who the new kid is?” Pietro’s voice called out, the smirk he wore very apparent in his voice.

Bucky sighed and got up off Steve; he should’ve known better . . . he highly doubted that they would get any time together. Not with Kevin and Ava, work and school. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Standing, Steve ran his hands down his clothes to smooth them. “I should introduce them,” he said softly, shooting his lover a smile. The tall blond strode quickly into the main store and offered a smile to the owners. “Nat, Clint, come meet Kevin. Bucky and I are fostering him.” He gestured towards the kid’s section and the quietly watchful boy, apparently fascinated by Daniel stacking blocks.

“I didn’t know you got cleared? Bucky didn’t say anything when we spoke on the phone last night.” Nat said as she followed Steve to the kid’s area.

“Tony called this morning, actually, then Kevin came in about an hour later.” Steve squatted by the pretty little boy, who looked up at the adults with a sunny smile.

“Hello, Kevin. I’m Natasha . . . I’m a friend of Steve, Bucky and Ava.” Nat said softly, a smile gracing her red lips.

“Hello,” the boy whispered in response. “Ava is playing with me,” he continued in his whisper, turning a delighted smile on the little girl.

Ava offered a small smile to Nat and Clint before going back to the blocks, helping Daniel stack them. She still felt embarrassed and upset over her encounter with Steve and her uncle; and she didn’t quite know how she felt about the little boy . . . not yet, anyways.

Clint nodded. “Hello, Kevin. I’m Clint.” He turned to look over his own foster son, Daniel, then offered Ava a smile. “Looks like you’re building a castle of monster proportions.”

Daniel snickered and nodded, adding another steeple type pyramid. “Sure, then the dragon comes, knocks on the door, and when the prince answers, he eats the ruler, setting the peasants free.” The boy’s imagination had always startled those who were privy to it.

Nat gave Daniel a fond smile before looking at Steve, “where’s Bucky? I saw his car out front.”

“He’s in the back room,” Steve answered immediately. “Want me to get him?”

Shaking her head softly, Nat said, “nah, I’ll go to him. It was nice meeting you, Kevin.” She gave the boy a friendly smile.

The little boy immediately sprang to his feet and threw his arms around Nat for a fierce hug. “I like you,” he whispered then sat back down.

“Oh,” Nat looked down at Steve, one brow quirked in fascination.

Steve smiled at the boy’s affection and nodded up at Nat, as if she’d asked him something. “He greeted me pretty much the same way,” he said softly.

Nodding, Natasha looked over at Kevin once more, smiling softly, before turning around and heading into the back room.

Ava looked over at Steve with a slight flush, “is Uncle Bucky still mad at me?”

With a shake of his head, Steve answered, “no, I think he’s a bit overwhelmed, like you, at the idea of another person coming into the house.” Steve offered the girl a smile. “I guess it’s happening so fast, we’re all on edge.”

“I didn’t mean to make him mad . . .” Ava’s eyes fell and she tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

“I know that, and he knows that, Ava.” Steve reached over and tugged the little girl into a one-armed hug. “He’s okay, and he’s not mad anymore.” As Kevin didn’t seem bothered to be left out of the hug, Steve contented himself with merely hugging the little girl he’d help raise for five years.


	3. Disturbing Discoveries

Bucky’s footsteps could be heard on the hardwood floor as he walked up to the group, “you guys ready to go? I figured we should get Kevin settled.”

“Yes,” Steve answered immediately, looking up at his boyfriend from where he squatted by the kids, still hugging Ava. “Hey, Bucky, how were your grades? You got them today, right?” Steve stood, reaching for Kevin’s hand, who took Steve’s obediently.

Smiling, Bucky nodded and answered, “all A’s . . . squeaked by in calculus . . . but still, an A is an A, right?”

Steve sounded impressed and proud, “I knew you could do it!” He reached out his free hand for Ava, “doesn’t that mean Uncle Bucky deserves a party, Ava? Go get your bag and we can treat Uncle Bucky like the genius he is.”

Ava scurried off, grabbing her backpack from the back room before returning to grab Steve’s other hand. “A party? I like parties.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal . . .” Bucky muttered, cheeks tinged with light pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Not a big deal?” Steve sounded disbelieving, guiding the children from the store, nodding to the owners and workers as he left. “Ava, what do you think? Your uncle got A’s in everything, including math. Party or no big deal?” He began to lead the kids to Bucky’s car.

“Party!” Ava leaned over to look at Kevin, “my Uncle Bucky is real smart! So is Steve!”

“So are you,” Kevin whispered to her with a wide smile.

Steve chuckled. “Okay, so we’re the smart party. Hey, Buck, is Ava’s old booster seat in the trunk still? Maybe we can use it for Kevin until we get one the right size? He’s smaller than she was at six.”

Unlocking the car, Bucky nodded and popped the trunk open and pulled out the car seat, “thank goodness I was always too lazy to put this sucker in the garage.” The brunet opened the back door and began the process of securing the booster seat in place.

“Or get rid of it completely,” Steve chuckled. “Ava, want to show Kevin how to sit in the booster seat like a good boy?” He tried to keep including Ava in Kevin’s care so she would feel like part of the family, not replaced.

“I don’t sit in a booster anymore, Steve!” Ava crinkled her nose and shook her head wildly.

“I know,” Steve chuckled, “I meant put him in it and show him how to sit still?”

Bucky grumbled as he couldn’t get the seat belt to wrap properly around the carseat; it had been a while since he had to install one of these.

The blond looked over at Bucky then asked “Ava, remember how this thing goes in? Maybe you can help Uncle Bucky?”

Letting go of Steve’s hand, Ava bounded over to her uncle and pointed at the booster, “the belt wraps around _there_ . . . no, not there . . . _there_!”

Bucky huffed slightly but finally got the car seat securely into place, looking over at his niece with a smile, he said, “thank you for the help, Ava.”

“Definitely the smart party,” Steve praised. He led Kevin to them and let go of his hand so that Bucky and Ava could get the little boy into the booster seat.

Lifting the little boy into the car, Bucky was surprised by how light Kevin was; he didn’t weigh as much as a six year old should . . . he was probably about the size of a three or four year old. Shaking his head, Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear so that he could see what he was doing as he buckled the little boy in. “There you go, all safe and sound,” Bucky said gently.

The boy looked down at the buckles with mild surprise on his face then back up at Bucky. He smiled sunnily up at the tall brunet. Whispering, he nodded, “I quiet.”

Bucky looked over at Steve in confusion.

The tall blond shook his head and frowned. Then he darted back into the store to get the file he’d left on the back room table. Quickly , Steve came back to the car, looking sheepish, “forgot his file,” he explained.

“Squirt, get into the car,” Bucky said, shutting Kevin’s door and opening the driver’s side as the little girl ran to the other side of the car to get into her seat.

Steve slid in, throwing Ava a smile. He buckled up and asked, “So, do we want an in-house party or plans for out of the home? If we want out of the home, we might have to plan it for another day.” He smiled at his lover.

Shaking his head, Bucky pulled out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of home, “how about just a nice, relaxing dinner at home, yeah? Really, Steve . . . it’s not like I’m graduating or anything.”

“Okay, relaxing dinner at home I can do,” he agreed.

“Can we have chicken nuggets?” Ava asked from the back seat, she turned to look at Kevin, “you like chicken nuggets, right?”

“Okay,” he agreed in his quiet way, smiling.

“See? Kevin likes chicken nuggets!” Ava smiled happily, thinking that she might get her favorite meal.

Surprisingly, Steve flipped open the file before answering. He looked over the information he had before finally saying, “no known allergies.” He smiled at Bucky. “Dinner is what you want, Buck. I’ll cook anything.”

Bucky focused on the road, but his fingers tapped the steering wheel in thought, in a quiet tone, he leaned closer to Steve and said, “make something kid friendly . . . this is Kevin’s first night with us. Make it about him, Steve . . . it’s his night.”

The blond beamed happily at his lover and nodded. “Okay, Kevin’s choice. Ava, ask Kevin what he likes best, okay?”

Looking over at the little boy, Ava leaned over and asked, “what’s your favorite food, Kevin? Mine’s chicken nuggets . . . yours can be different but chicken nuggets are the best!”

“Okay,” he repeated happily.

Steve sighed, still smiling, “Kevin, do you like something else? What do you normally eat?”

Kevin smiled towards the front and called, softly, “ _Purina_.”

Bucky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel but he didn’t say anything, his eyes hardened and his fingers twitched.

Steve’s eyes widened and he turned sharply to look back at the little boy. “ _Purina_?” he asked carefully.

The boy nodded and smiled at Ava. “I get to eat with Frankie.”

“Steve . . . what’s _Purina_?” Ava asked; she hadn’t ever heard of that food before . . . and Steve cooked a lot.

“Chicken nuggets it is,” Steve called loudly, unable to think how to answer the girl.

Pulling into the driveway, Bucky parked the car and let out a deep breath.

Steve looked at Bucky. “There’s nothing about that in the file, Buck.” His hands shook.

“Well, there’s probably a lot that’s not in the file . . . we’ll just have to take it as we go.” The brunet got out of the car and opened Kevin’s door, unbuckling the little boy.

“What’s _Purina_?” Ava asked again as she opened her door and stepped out of the car.

Softly, sounding like he didn’t want to answer, Steve choked out “dog food, Ava.” He got out of the car and reached for her hand, letting Bucky carry the boy if he chose, but waiting to see how things would go.

“Little boys aren’t supposed to eat dog food, Steve. Only dogs are supposed to eat dog food.”

Steve sighed and knelt down. “You remember the bad man from when we first met, Ava?”

Eyes widening, Ava nodded, “he hurt you and Uncle Bucky.”

“Well, Kevin’s mother was mean like Brock. She did so many mean things to Kevin, that the cops took him away. Now he’s living with us.” Steve stroked a hand through her hair, eyes troubled. “Do you think you can be nice to him? Show him we’re aren’t like his mom or Brock?”

Nodding frantically, Ava said, “yes! I’m not mean like the bad man.”

“Thank you so much, Ava. We’ll get the spare room done as soon as we can. Until then, he’ll need to be in your room so you can protect him.” He hadn’t wanted to tell her that; he was afraid that somewhere inside she still remembered what her own mother had done to her. But he wanted Ava to understand just why Kevin needed them - - and who knew what else the little boy might innocently say about his own abuse.

Hitching the little boy onto his hip, Bucky kicked the car door shut and locked the door; grabbing the house key, the brunet made his way to the front door. Slipping the key into the lock, and punching in the security code, Bucky opened the door and stepped inside.

Steve lead Ava right behind her uncle, closing the door behind them and resetting the state-of-the-art alarm. Trying desperately to find something to reassure Bucky, the blond called, “Sam said Brock’s lost another appeal.”

Setting the boy down on the couch, Bucky looked over at Steve, eyes hardening instantly, “good . . . I hope he dies in that cell.”

“Me, too, Bucky,” Steve answered softly. “Ava, why don’t you show Kevin your room and his part of it? Show him where the bathroom is? I’ll go make chicken nuggets . . . do you want a selection of sauces or just one?”

“Okay,” Ava grabbed Kevin’s hand and pulled the little boy off the couch, “I like ketchup and ranch, you know that Steve!”

The little boy smiled back at the adults. He called out in a whisper “I like you, Bucky. I like you, Steve,” then followed Ava up the steps, climbing each one separately.

As soon as the children were up the stairs, Bucky visibly sagged and tugged on the sleeve of his left arm, something he hadn’t done in months.

Steve walked over to take Bucky into his arms. “Bucky? Is this going to be too much?” He cuddled his boyfriend securely against his chest.

“I’ll be fine, Steve . . . worry about that little boy, okay?” Bucky answered softly as he wrapped his arms around his lover.

“I have enough heart to worry about all three of you, Bucky.” He dropped a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “Wanna come watch me cook? You can sit on the counter and feed me vegetable bits while I pretend not to be stealing kisses?”

Laughing, Bucky nodded and pulled away slightly, “alright,” he looked at the stairs, “I wonder what other horrors that poor kid has seen?”

Steve shook his head. “All I know is that his mother would lock him in a closet for days on end while she got high with friends. Riley reported that she was stoned when she tried to convince him to buy _‘a pretty little boy, do anything you want’_ she had back at her place.” The blond shuddered. “And that at booking she swore he was six, but couldn’t name his real birthday.”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed and turned to walk into the kitchen.

Steve followed. “They’ve run a DNA and are waiting to see if it matches anyone in missing persons or whatever they can find. They don’t think he was really her’s, but I don’t know. Some parents really are that twisted.” Steve washed his hands then pulled out chicken and breading supplies, as well as the deep frier and other things to make chicken nuggets from scratch.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky shook his head, “he’s a sweet kid, I just hope they are able to find a really good, permanent home for him.”

Nodding in agreement, Steve sighed. “I’m just glad . . . and scared . . . to be a part of his healing process. What if I do something wrong and he loses his possibility of placement with a nice family?” Steve began breading the chicken.

Walking over to the whiteboard, Bucky saw that he was off tomorrow and Steve didn’t have any plans, either. “That ain’t gonna happen, Steve. You’re amazing with Ava . . you’ll be great with Kevin, too.” The brunet added, “hey, we’re both off tomorrow. That’ll be good. Give us some time to get Kevin adjusted.”

Throwing a smile at his boyfriend, Steve said, “I was thinking on introducing him to coloring? Ava has some old books that she said were too babyish for her last Christmas.”

“I’m sure he’ll love that . . . does he need anything? I can go to the store in the morning - - might get my haircut while I’m out . .. shits getting too long.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed and checked the oil on the fryer before dropping the chicken carefully in piece by piece. “He needs everything. You saw what I brought in for him?” he paused, waiting as Bucky realized Steve had only brought in the kid’s file, “well, he needs everything I didn’t bring.” Looking over, Steve tilted his head. “I like your hair long, but I think you’d look good short, too.”

“Shit, alright . . . well, luckily we got savings for this type of thing,” Bucky grabbed the dry erase marker that hung by the board and wrote next to his name for tomorrow : _‘shopping for Kevin.’_

“Don’t need our savings, Buck. Like every kid that comes through the clinic, Tony pays for it. I made a compromise with him. I use some of the funds I would’ve donated and he doesn’t make me give him receipts.” He began removing the chicken carefully. “But if you want to grab some of the savings, we can get Ava a few things. She needs a new swimsuit. The other one is a bikini, and I think she may be getting too old for that kind of thing until she’s in college.”

“Yeah, her shorts are getting small too . . . growing like a weed, I swear,” Bucky smiled fondly and capped the pen.

“She’ll be tall and graceful, like you, Love,” Steve said, absently, plating the chicken as he drained it.

Snorting, Bucky shook his head and said, “I ain’t graceful . . . I literally tripped over the damn island just yesterday.”

“I said graceful, not aware. You just don’t look where you’re going.” Steve grinned over. “If you did, you’d move like a ninja, I swear.” Checking over Bucky’s writing, Steve said “might wanna add Ava’s name to that shopping or she might think she’s being left out.”

Turning to do as Steve suggested, Bucky began writing next to Ava’s name, “do you think we should take Kevin? Or should you stay home with him?”

Steve paused. “I don’t want him overwhelmed, but he seemed okay in groups, doesn’t he? What do you think? Make it a family thing? If he starts having problems, I can bring him home in a cab?”

Nodding, Bucky penned in Kevin and Steve’s name for the shopping trip.

The house phone rang, an addition Steve had insisted on once Ava had begun school.

Setting down the marker, Bucky walked over to the phone and answered, “Barnes - - Rogers residence.”

“Oh, is this James Barnes? Uncle to Ava Proctor?” the voice sounded like a female who was partly nervous and partly anxious.

“Yes, I’m James Barnes . . . how can I help you?”

“This is Megan Miller. My son Geoff has class with your niece. And I just heard something very disturbing from one of the other mothers.”

What did Ava do now? “And what would that be, Mrs. Miller?”

“Well, Hannah’s mother told Jenn’s mother that Ava was flashing a lot of money at school and saying her dad gave it to her,” the words came out in a rush.

“Money? I’m sorry but I’m not sure I understand . . .” Bucky’s eyes flickered over to Steve and then focused back into the living room.

“Well,” the woman went on, “I asked Geoff about it and he said she had a hundred dollars and said her Daddy gave it to her for partying.”

“Ma’am . . . with all due respect, I would never give my ten year old a hundred dollars to hold at school.” This lady was crazy. 

“No, Mr. Barnes, not _you_.” She hissed. “She said it wasn’t from her Uncle Bucky, it was from her _daddy_.”

“Daddy?” Bucky furrowed his brows, eyes looking at Steve again.

“Well, I know how she’s not with her own parents for a reason, and it’s none of my business, but if her father’s come around behind your back giving her money only a very wealthy . . . drugs? Something else illegal and worrying? Well, I thought you’d want to know!” The woman finished and almost sounded like she nodded.

“Thank you Mrs. Miller, I’ll ask her about it.” _Who the hell would Ava be calling daddy?_ “I appreciate the call, tell all the other mothers that they got nothing to worry about.” Bucky hung up the call before he could listen to any more of the woman’s weird story.

Steve put dipping vegetables out as well as some sliced cheese and crackers. Finally, he walked into the other room to call Ava and Kevin down to dinner. Walking back into the kitchen, Steve offered a smile to Bucky. “Everything okay?”

Looking very confused, Bucky shook his head softly, “That was Mrs. Miller . . . I guess Ava was in school today flashing a hundred dollar bill saying that her _daddy_ gave it to her.”

Immediately, Steve went pale. “Who the hell is going near Ava?” He pulled out his phone, ready to dial Sam if needed. “Who would give a little girl that kind of money?”

Just then Ava walked into the kitchen, Kevin trailing close behind.

“Squirt,” Bucky called gently, “I gotta ask you something and you have to promise to tell the truth, okay?”

Ava looked at Bucky with wide eyes and slowly nodded her head, “okay . . .”

Kevin walked over to the sink and sat down on the floor, looking up expectantly. Steve picked the boy up without a word and sat him on the counter, washing his face and hands.

“Did a man give you money today?” Bucky asked, kneeling down to get on the same level as the little girl.

“Yeah, Steve gave me money, for the pizza party,” Ava’s eyes flickered over to Steve and then back at Bucky.

Hearing the words, Steve nodded. “I gave her ten dollars in case she needed it to pay for the pizza at the party Miss Smith was giving the fifth grade,” he confirmed.

Bucky knew how fast little kids could exaggerate details of a story, a ten dollar bill could very easily become a hundred when described by a child. A sinking feeling filled Bucky’s gut.

Suddenly, as if coming to a similar conclusion to Bucky, Steve said, “I never . . . Bucky, I never asked her to call me that . . .” He looked worried.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Bucky swallowed and nodded, he kissed Ava’s forehead gingerly, “thank you for being honest, Ava.” He stood back up and walked out of the kitchen without looking at Steve.

Ava had called Steve _daddy_. Bucky shouldn’t care as much as he did, but the realization that he’d only ever be her _Uncle Bucky_ made his heart ache.

Carefully, Steve asked Ava softly, “Ava, did you tell people that your Daddy gave you the money, Pumpkin?”

Wringing her hands together nervously, Ava bit her lip and nodded, “yeah,” her voice came out soft and timid.

Gently, the tall blond sat Kevin on a chair and knelt by Ava. “Why?” There was no censure in his voice, just curiosity.

“Everyone else has daddys and I’ve only ever had Uncle Bucky . . . but now I have you. You’re like my daddy, right? I’m not in trouble or anything am I?” Ava’s eyes filled with tears.

“No, you’re not in trouble. Let me see if I can explain what this feels like for your Uncle Bucky, okay?” He pulled her into his arms. “Your Uncle was here when you were a baby. When you got sick or had birthdays and everything. He’s been here the whole time like a real Daddy. Me? I’ve been here a few years because I’m his boyfriend.” Steve stroked the little girl’s hair. “I think Uncle Bucky makes a great Daddy.”

“But he’s _Uncle Bucky_. He’s not my daddy. I know you’re not my _real_ daddy either but you take care of me just like any daddy would.” Ava’s brows furrowed and she looked as if she was trying to figure everything out.

Biting his lip, Steve tried again, “But so does Bucky. So, does that mean he takes care of you like a Mom?”

“No . . . he’s Uncle Bucky, Steve . . .” Ava looked down at the floor and shook her head.

“Ava, I didn’t ask if he was Mom, I asked if he took care of you like a Mom does,” he prodded gently.

“I don’t know! I don’t know how mommies are supposed to be.” Ava’s voice trembled and a few tears fell from her eyes, frustrated, she wiped them away.

Steve suddenly sat on the floor and pulled Ava into his lap. “And you don’t know how Dads act either, silly goose,” he teased. “You only know how Uncle Bucky’s act and how Steve’s act.” He cuddled her. “I’ll bet out of all those kids who have Daddys and Mommys out there, you are the only one with an Uncle Bucky, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ava sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

“Know what? When I was growing up, I only had my Mom. I never had a Daddy, either,” he sighed. “And your Uncle Bucky shared his daddy with me. I even called him dad once in awhile, but that got Bucky upset because he said it wasn’t true. It took me a long time to understand what he meant.” Steve lifted her chin. “He didn’t mind sharing his dad, but he wanted people to know the truth. And the truth was, his dad wasn’t my dad.”

“But if someone loves you like a daddy . . . why can’t you call them daddy?” Ava’s eyes searched Steve’s face, her expression utterly lost.

“Okay, so, let me go back to another question. If Uncle Bucky loves you like you’re his little girl, why can’t he be daddy?” He looked serious, kind, and loving.

The question seemed to stun Ava; she looked at Steve with wide eyes, “I - - I don’t know . . .”

“Hey, no answer right now. You gotta eat dinner first, oaky? But you think about it.” He smiled and stood up, helping the child to her feet. “There’s plenty of food for both of you. I’ll let you watch Kevin, and if he seems to be having troubles, you hollar for us. I’m gonna go check on Uncle Bucky.”

“Okay,” Ava said solemnly and she began to put pieces of chicken on Kevin’s plate, “here you go, Kevin. Chicken nuggets are good.”


	4. Troubling Behavior

Walking up the stairs, Steve stopped at Bucky’s room, looking inside. He sighed at seeing how his lover lay there, back to the door, looking dejected and small somehow. Walking in, Steve sank onto the edge of the bed and touched his lover’s hip.

“I’m not really hungry, Steve,” Bucky mumbled, not turning to look at Steve, grey eyes focusing on the wall in front of him. 

“So, save the strawberries dipped in chocolate for later, right?” Steve said quietly, voice serious.

Bucky didn’t say anything. 

“I asked Ava about why she called me daddy at school. Wanna know why?” Steve caressed Bucky’s hip carefully.

“Does it matter?” Bucky murmured, nothing in his body responded to Steve’s touch. 

“Yeah, cause her answer reminded me exactly of you.” Steve stroked again, smiling softly though his eyes stayed worried.

“I shouldn’t care . . . I know I shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter. I’m her uncle . . . that’s the truth of it.” The brunet curled into himself, still not daring to look at Steve.

“Oh, God, just like when we were kids,” Steve leaned over to touch his head to Bucky’s shoulder then quickly pulled up again. “She said that she couldn’t call you daddy because you were her uncle. And she didn’t have a different daddy but I was here and acted like one. I asked if you treat her like a Mom, and she said she didn’t know.” Steve stroked Bucky’s hip again, moving his hand to the man’s back. “So, I asked if you love her like your own, why you can’t be daddy.” Steve paused, leaned closer to kiss Bucky’s shoulder, despite the shirt, and breathed, “she’s thinking about it right now.”

“Hank was a good man . . . I would never want to - - replace him . . .” Bucky shook his head, the fingers of his left hand curling up tightly to fist the fabric of the thick comforter below him.

“She knows her mom, Bucky, but have you told her about her dad? Shown her pictures? Let her ask questions?” He smiled. “It’s so easy to let those things get away from us when we’re busy with right now.”

“No, honestly I’m not even sure if I have a picture of Hank. I’ll have to look through some of Becca’s things that I have stored in the basement. I haven’t even looked in those boxes since I packed them after the fire . . . very little made it out of the house. I know there were some pictures that came out okay, hopefully one with Hank.” Bucky said softly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about showing Ava pictures of her biological father . . . how it would affect her, affect their relationship. But Bucky reminded himself he’d never be Ava’s father, he could never replace the kind man who’d died tragically early saving a family from a burning building; he’d always be Uncle Bucky . . . that’s it. 

Steve stroked Bucky’s back, nodding. “I pointed out to her that while all the kids have moms and dads, she’s the only one lucky enough to have an Uncle Bucky . . .”

Finally, Bucky turned his head to look at Steve, his steel blue eyes swarming with pain, “what if that’s not good enough, Steve?” 

“Not good enough?” Steve looked genuinely confused. “Why wouldn’t it be? You’ve raised her to be a strong, beautiful little girl, Buck. Someday she’ll understand that _‘daddy’_ is just a word.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head and stood back up, pulling at his sleeve, “we should get back down there . . . spend some time with the kids.” 

Nodding, Steve stood. “Soon as Kevin gets settled, we’ll have to take some us time,” the blond suggested.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “I’d like that . . . Steve?” 

“Yeah, Bucky?” the blond offered his lover a smile.

“After we get the kids to bed . . . would you - - uh . . . help me look through those boxes? I don’t want to sift through them by myself?” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking unsure of himself.

“Of course,” Steve smiled and took Bucky’s left hand in his, lightly caressing his thumb over the scars there. “I’d love to know more about Becca if you wanna share.”

Nodding, happy with that answer, Bucky pulled Steve with him as he walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Kevin had finished whatever Ava had given him, ketchup and ranch dressing mixed liberally across his face and hands, as the boy had eaten just what Ava had shown him to.

“Steve! Kevin made a mess . . . his face is all sticky,” Ava looked at the little boy with slight disgust.

Letting out a soft laugh, Steve dropped Bucky’s hand to grab a washcloth and dampen it. “Yeah, reminds me of a certain little girl at that age.” He lifted the boy’s face to wash the mess away. “Did you get enough to eat, Ava? Kevin?”

“I’m full now, Steve,” Ava hopped off the chair and grabbed her plate, walking it over to the sink, “can we watch some TV before bed?”

“Well,” Steve drawled slowly, a playful smile on his lips, “did you finish your homework?”

“I don’t have homework! It’s summer, Steve!” Ava whined softly, head falling back in exasperation.

“Summer?” Steve grinned over at Bucky. “Scandalous! Have your heard of this, Bucky? They let the rug rats out without homework in summer?”

Leaning against the counter, a small smirk on his lips, Bucky shook his head, “I don’t know . . . think we ought to assign homework of our own?”

“Oh! I can find something in the library for them to research . . .” Steve offered, sounding eager.

“No!” Ava’s eyes widened, “But it’s summer! I don’t have summer school like Uncle Bucky!”

Grabbing the dishtowel to dry Kevin’s clean face, Steve nodded. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe you can help with Uncle Bucky’s homework?”

“What about Kevin? He’s too small to help with Uncle Bucky’s homework! That’s not fair if I have to help but he doesn’t!” Ava groaned.

“I help . . .” Kevin offered quietly, smiling happily.

Steve shook his head, laughing, “You don’t _want_ to help with Uncle Bucky’s homework, Ava? You’d rather play and swim and color and catch fireflies?”

“Yes!” Ava exclaimed, “can we go to the pool tomorrow? I love the pool!”

“Well,” Steve temporized, “I was thinking you could invite your friends over to play in the yard tomorrow. Uncle Bucky starts classes again soon, and once that happens you know we can’t have the other kids over so much because they get loud.”

“Steve,” Bucky leaned over, “we need to get some things tomorrow, remember? I mean, I can go by myself? Maybe it’ll be nice to introduce some of Ava’s friends to Kevin?”

Glancing over at the schedule on the whiteboard, Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. Ava, did you check the schedule for tomorrow?” He smiled at gestured towards the planned family shopping trip. “But, of course, if you’d rather _not_ get some new things . . .”

Walking over to the board, Ava smiled and shook her head, “I wanna go shopping with you!”

“Whatcha think, Buck? Wanna take us shopping with you after all?” Steve smiled.

“Hate shopping by myself, I’d love the company.” Bucky smiled and nodded.

“And you’d look pretty silly trying on new girl’s bathing suits . . .” Steve hinted.

“New swimsuits! Uncle Bucky doesn’t wear bathing suits, Steve! You always take me to the pool!” Ava smile grew at the prospect of possibly getting new clothes.

“Ah, but if he shops by himself, he’d have to try on the suit, wouldn’t he? I seem to remember the rule is we try on new outfits before we buy them . . .” Steve laughed, scooping up Kevin in his arms without really thinking about it. The boy lay his head on Steve’s broad shoulder, looking happy and secure.

****************

Bucky groaned loudly when his alarm blared; turning the brunet silenced the noise and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Beside Bucky, Steve lifted his head from the pillow and yawned. They’d not been able to do more than cuddle, still in clothes, the night before due to the kids, but the blond had enjoyed any time he’d gotten to share with his lover. He’d held Bucky long hours, murmuring softly about plans of the future, once Bucky had graduated, mentioning maybe even pulling enough together to take the kids to Disney World. Now, the tall blond felt muzzy headed and tired from spending so many hours chatting and cuddling instead of sleeping.

Standing up, Bucky stretched his arms over his head, his back cracking and popping, “gotta wake the kids . . .” the brunet mumbled, shuffling over to the door.

“Yeah, want to do coffee or kids?” Steve pulled himself from the bed and started making it out of long habit.

“You get the kids, I’ll make some coffee . . . I don’t feel like dealing with Ava’s grumpy morning attitude.”

“Huh,” Steve chuckled. “She never gives me morning attitude.” The blond passed by his lover and kissed Bucky’s shoulder, smiling at him. “I’ll go wake the sleeping bear.”

Bucky tried not to think about that statement; Ava had always listened and acted better with Steve. Shaking his head, Bucky walked down the stairs to start the pot of coffee.

Striding to Ava’s door, Steve knocked loudly. “You better be dressed, ‘cause I’m going to walk in!” He waited for her reaction.

“Is it morning already?” Ava grumbled, curling up under her covers.

“Yup, morning is singing and the birds are shining!” Steve opened the door a crack and grinned towards the little girl. “Decent?”

“Yeah,” Ava sighed.

“Good,” Steve opened the door and walked in. He headed towards the curtain partition in the room. Pulling it back, the man asked “so, you’re wearing nice socks, right, so we can look into shoes, too?” He stopped, frowning, and asked, “Ava? Where’s Kevin?”

“I don’t know . . . I just woke up, he was sleeping.” Ava sat up and yawned loudly, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

Steve checked under the bed and all around the floor. He looked at the open window . . . but they were on the second floor, and the window wasn’t wide enough to allow a boy, even that small, to climb out. Worry rising, Steve called, “Ava get dressed!” He took off and began searching the other rooms.

Bucky, hearing a lot of movement upstairs, frowned and walked over to the bottom of the steps, “Steve! Everything okay?”

“No!” Steve rushed back into the hall from Bucky’s room. “I can’t find Kevin!” His voice was on the verge of real panic

“What?!” Bucky asked; taking the steps two at a time, the brunet made it to the second floor and asked, “what do you mean you can’t find him?”

“He wasn’t in his bed or on the floor. He’s not in any of the other rooms,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, glancing desperately at his boyfriend. “Do you think maybe he came downstairs in the night or something?”

A soft whisper came from Ava’s room. “Kevin here.”

Steve whirled around and hurried to the boy, kneeling to check him over. “Where were you?”

Looking up with large grey eyes, Kevin smiled at the frantic man. “Kevin sleep.”

“Sleep? Where? You weren’t in bed, Kevin.” Steve checked the boy over again before starting to relax.

Bucky stepped behind Steve, looking down at the two with a concerned frown, however he didn’t say anything, waiting to listen to the little boy’s answer.

“Sleep bed,” Kevin smiled and turned to run over to the closet door, pulling it open to reveal a nest of sorts of clothes.

Gasping softly, Bucky’s mouth dropped open slightly before snapping shut, walking over to the little boy, the brunet knelt down and softly placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder.

Steve looked like he wanted to cry.

“Kevin . . . I know it’s a little different than you’re used to . . . but you know that nice bed Steve and I showed you last night?” Bucky spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone.

“Yup,” Kevin said happily, smiling up at Bucky.

“Well, that bed is all yours. You can sleep in it . . . you don’t have to sleep in the closet anymore. You have your own bed.” Bucky didn’t know if the boy would understand, but he had to try and explain it the best he could.

“Okay,” Kevin nodded. He smelled strongly of urine. “Bed not wet,” he sounded pleased.

Groaning, Steve scooped the boy up and carried him to the bathroom to clean up, realizing the child had wet himself in the night. He’s have to wash all of Ava’s clothes, too.

Bucky moved to pick up the soiled clothes, scooping them up before Ava found out what happened; they didn’t need to be dealing with a very upset little girl on top of everything else. Walking down into the basement, Bucky dumped the clothes into the washing machine.

“Ava,” Steve called to the girl from the bathroom. His voice came out upset, as if he fought tears.

Brushing her hair, Ava stepped out into the hall, “yeah?”

The door stood open, revealing Steve washing the scarred little boy in the tub. “Can you pick out an outfit from your bureau, please? And get dressed in Uncle Bucky’s room.”

“Okay,” Ava nodded and grabbed some clothes from her dresser. “Why does it smell bad in the closet, Steve?”

Honest as always, Steve responded, “Because Kevin forgot where the bathroom was last night. He gets confused, Ava, Sweetie. He’s used to being locked in his room all the time.”

“Oh,” Ava furrowed her brows but didn’t say anything else, just walked into Bucky’s room to finish getting ready.

Finally, Steve dried off the little boy, wrapping him in the large fluffy towel. He carried the child to Bucky’s room and set him on the bed. “Thanks, Ava, for being such a good girl today. I really appreciate it, Pumpkin,” Steve said then went back to the girl’s room to start cleaning the mess.

Carrying a bucket of soapy hot water, a towel and a scrub brush, Bucky walked back into the room and headed towards the closet. He knelt down and soaked the brush.

“I got this, Buck. I’ve done it a hundred times before,” Steve said quietly, reaching for the cleaning supplies.

Bucky shook his head and began scrubbing, “no, you finish getting Kevin ready . . . I threw the clothes in the wash but I don’t know what we’ll dress Kevin in.”

“Maybe one of Ava’s short sets until he has some clothes? He’s so little, one day dressing in pink shouldn’t hurt him.” Steve hovered, looking worried and very troubled, his eyes holding haunted memories in their blue depths.

Rinsing the brush in the sudsy water, Bucky shook out the excess water and began scrubbing the spot again, “oh! I forgot! Steve, there are some basketball shorts in the bottom of Ava’s dresser . . . remember we got them for her when she wanted to play basketball a few years ago . . . they have a drawstring so they should fit. And I’m sure that she has a t-shirt or something that isn’t too girly.”

With a nod, Steve went over to Ava’s dresser and rooted for the outfit Bucky remembered. He couldn’t do anything about underpants for the child yet, but he certainly could dress him up in Ava’s discards. Walking back to Bucky’s room, Steve drew a nervous breath. “Ava, Pumpkin? Can I ask a big favor?”

Looking over at Steve, fully dressed for the day, Ava nodded, “yeah.”

The tall man looked like he’d had a recent nightmare, his hands trembled slightly and he looked down at his hands rather than meeting the girl’s eyes. “Kevin doesn’t have clothes to go shopping in. Can he borrow some from you?”

Looking up at the clothes in Steve’s hands, Ava nodded again with a small smile, “okay.”

Steve’s eyes filled with tears and he offered a relieved smile back. “Thanks, Pumpkin. You’re the best!” He moved over to dress Kevin in the over-large clothes, pulling the drawstring as tight as it would go.

“Can I go watch some TV before we go, Steve?” Ava asked.

“Can you do something else for me?” Steve looked at her. “Can you pack some snacks in your bag? Then you can watch television until we’re ready, okay?” He hoped that letting the girl have such a grown up job would help her get over the fact that Kevin needed so much attention that morning.

Happily, Ava nodded and bounded from the room, her loud footsteps echoing throughout the house.

Finally having gotten the child clothed, Steve carried him into Ava’s room. He watched Bucky working. “Lemon juice will help . . . or white vinegar,” he offered softly, eyes worried.

Stopping mid-scrub, Bucky hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking until he looked down.

Steve knelt down next to Bucky. “Buck? Please, baby, talk to me? I know you were locked up for a day, but it’s a horrible memory . . . you don’t have to do this . . .”

“It - - it’s fine. I got this, Steve. Go - - go help Kevin,” Bucky muttered as he began to scrub again.

“Kevin here,” the boy said in his happy, soft voice. The boy pulled out of Steve’s arms and threw his little arms around Bucky’s neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, my Bucky.”

Kevin’s hug threw Bucky off balance and he tumbled softly to the side; the brunet wrapped his arms around the little boy, “hello, Kevin.”

Steve knelt. “Come on,” he offered a small, hopeful smile. “You got the worst of it. Let’s go shopping and finish cleaning later?” That was a very big concession from the man who obsessively cleaned when upset.

Looking over at Steve, arms still around the boy, Bucky nodded and said, “yeah . . . okay. I - - I need to get dressed.”

Nodding, Steve helped the brunet up, balancing him as he adjusted to rising while carrying Kevin’s weight. “We both do,” the blond laughed a little, sounding a little more grounded. “What do you think, Kevin, what color should Bucky wear?”

“Sunshine,” Kevin replied promptly with a smile for Steve.

Laughing softly, Bucky set Kevin down and shook his head, “I don’t know if I have any yellow . . . but I’ll look, okay?”

Kevin nodded and backed away from the adults, still smiling, not looking where he went. He tripped and fell into the dollhouse, sending the plastic structure flying in a clatter of loose furniture and dolls. “Uh oh!” And for the first time, Kevin didn’t smile. Instead, his large grey eyes filled with tears and his lip trembled, but he made no noise.

Kneeling down, Bucky offered a kind smile, “it’s okay, Kevin. It was an accident. You’re okay.”

“Broke it,” he said softly, hanging his head.

“It’s not broken. That dollhouse is made to come apart, Kevin,” Steve reassured. He carefully lifted the boy’s T-shirt to check that he wasn’t injured. Relieved, he offered Bucky a nod then Kevin a smile. “Why don’t we go get something to eat, okay? Later on, maybe Ava will let you help her rebuild?”

“Okay,” the boy said, still very subdued, very quiet. Steve carried the child to Bucky’s room so he could get some clothes, but went downstairs to feed the pair of kids before dressing.

Standing, Bucky grabbed the bucket by the closet so that he could dump out the dirty water into the tub. After disposing of the water, Bucky walked back into his room and over to the closet. He was surprised to see that he actually did own a yellow sweater; grabbing the sweater and a pair of jeans, the brunet walked into the bathroom.


	5. An Eventful Day

Not breaking his deal with Ava about her watching TV until they left, Steve carried in a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk, alone with an orange and some wash clothes, on a tray. He set them on the coffee table. “Thanks, Ava,” he said, still a little subdued. He went back to the kitchen and set the boy in a chair with some cereal while he quickly changed from his pajama bottoms to some jeans and a button-down short sleeved shirt. He didn’t make a habit of dressing in the kitchen, or even downstairs, but Steve didn’t want to take his eyes off the little boy as Kevin spooned soggy cereal happily into his mouth, without spilling for the moment.

With a frown, Steve pulled over the shopping list and began writing quickly with his right hand as he got the coffee made using his left.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, pulling his brown hair into a messy bun, he said, “almost ready, Steve?” 

“Yeah,” he answered checking on Kevin again. “Ava’s in the living room. I gave her permission for being so helpful this morning.” He wrote another item and gestured towards the coffee maker, “should be ready soon if you want a cup?”

Kevin looked up at Bucky and his smile turned to a look of pure, unadulterated shock. His grey eyes widened and mouth dropped and he froze in his seat, simply staring.

Noticing the look, Bucky looked down at himself and then back at over at Kevin. “You’re gonna catch flies if ya keep your mouth open like that,” the brunet teased lightly, smiling wide. 

Kevin slowly shut his mouth, tears starting into his eyes. Steve looked up, worry crossing his face.

Bucky looked over at Steve with a confused expression, unsure what he’d done to make Kevin so upset.

Finally, Kevin whispered, voice shaking, silent tears running down his face, “My Bucky so pretty!”

“Oh,” Bucky blushed and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

A smile broke over Steve’s face and he straightened, tearing off his hurried list and pocketing it. “Well, he’s right,” Steve said, “my Bucky is _very_ pretty.”

Ava walked into the kitchen, carrying her bowl and empty glass.

“Whatcha think, Ava, isn’t Uncle Bucky pretty in his yellow sweater?” Steve asked, still smiling.

Looking up at Bucky, Ava smiled and nodded, “very pretty.”

“Okay!” Bucky exclaimed, blushing heavily and squirming slightly under all the attention, “let’s get going, yeah?”

“Sure,” Steve answered. He began cleaning up Kevin’s dishes and took Ava’s with a smile. “Think you can get your uncle a cup of coffee without hurting yourself?” he asked Ava with a wink.

Ava’s face scrunched up, “coffee is gross,” but she walked over to the coffee pot.

“Just put his cup under it and press that button right there. It should stop before it overflows,” Steve instructed, rinsing the used dishes but not taking the time to thoroughly wash them yet.

Bucky stepped over to stand next to Ava, showing her the button to push.

“Ava, Pumpkin, Kevin tripped in your room and accidentally knocked over the dollhouse. If you want I can help you rebuild it and decorate it later?” the tall blond offered.

Scowling softly, Ava shook her head but didn’t say anything, Bucky looked down at her with a soft frown.

Steve hadn’t looked over so didn’t notice the girl’s reaction. Instead, he continued, “In fact, I was thinking the plastic dollhouse might be a little young for you. What do you think about a wooden one you build and glue and paint?” He looked over with a smile. “Maybe ask Santa at Christmas?” he teased softly, knowing the girl didn’t believe in Santa, but following the tradition he’d established of asking for expensive gifts from Santa.

Not saying a word, Ava turned and stomped out of the kitchen.

Surprised, Steve frowned and looked to Bucky. “What’d I say? I thought she’d like a new dollhouse. She was hinting that she wanted a less baby one . . .”

Sighing, Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “this is all just very new to her. I’ll talk to her when we get back.”

Steve scooped up Kevin and sighed. “Buck? Should we ask Nat or Wanda to go with us shopping? She’s getting older and might not want to try on suits and stuff in front of us men.” He looked towards the door, worried. “I mean, I know she’s only ten, but I read that girls can start as young as nine?” He turned a worried look to Bucky.

“God, that is the last thing we need right now,” Bucky groaned and turned to walk out of the kitchen, ignoring his coffee cup.

With a sigh, Steve capped the mug and took it with him, putting Kevin down but gripping his hand, letting the boy walk. “Ava, Pumpkin, we’re ready now,” Steve called.

“Fine,” Ava grumbled and walked over to the front door, opening it.

Thinking, Steve finally asked the girl gently, “would you rather go to the bookstore and let us do the shopping?” He did not make it sound like a threat or punishment, but the underlying possibility still hung there.

“No,” Ava muttered and turned to look up at Steve.

“Oh, good, because I don’t think I’d enjoy the day half as much without our Ava,” Steve reached over and hugged her with one arm, still balancing Bucky’s coffee in the other hand. He offered her a smile.

Bucky grabbed the coffee mug with a small smile and ushered towards the door, “shall we get this show on the road?”

Kevin reached over and took Ava’s hand, smiling up a ther. “Hello, my Ava,” he said softly.

Looking down at their entwined hands with mild contempt, Ava pulled her hand away and said, “hi,” although the word came out forced.

“Ava,” Bucky chided, tone hardening slightly, “be nice, or we’ll drop you off at the store.” That was a threat of discipline; Bucky knew Steve had a hard time disciplining the little girl.

The little boy didn’t seem to notice merely toddling towards the car on enthusiastic legs, Ava’s clothes drooping as he moved.

Ava huffed and crossed her arms; she narrowed her eyes at her uncle before whirling around and stomping towards the car.

Steve sighed and moved to open the car doors. He fastened Kevin in the booster seat without a word. Slowly, he moved to Ava’s side and reached to actually buckle her in.

Grumbling under his breath, Bucky locked up the house before turning to walk to the driver’s side door.

“I’m not a baby, Steve! I don’t need your help!” Ava shot out, taking the belt away from Steve.

“My mistake,” he said straightening and looking her dead in the eyes, voice low and serious. “I thought only babies threw temper tantrums.” Steve shut the door carefully and slid into the front passenger seat, buckling up. He was frowning as he looked straight ahead, eyes troubled.

Bucky looked over at Steve, his eyes worried. This day was going straight to hell; nothing was going right and Bucky knew they wouldn’t get anything done if they had to worry about Ava throwing a tantrum all day. “Alright, Ava. Since you can’t behave, we are going to the shop. We’ll pick you up after we’re done.”

“No!” Ava exclaimed, eyes wide and she lurched forward.

“Don’t shout in the car,” Steve lent his voice to Bucky’s. “This was supposed to be a pleasure trip for you, but Kevin has nothing . . . not even underwear, Ava. We _have_ to take him shopping. We have no choice.”

“Please! I’m sorry!” Ava whined, looking at both the adults with wide, tear-washed eyes.

The blond let Bucky make the final verdict. He’d shown his lover he would, once again, support whatever he decided to do; Ava was Bucky’s niece, not his. Steve merely pulled out the list again and began adding to it.

Bucky pulled out of the driveway and shook his head, “I’m sorry, Ava. But I told you . . . you’re going to the store, that’s final.”

Steve turned slightly to check on both kids then went back to his list, not interrupting. Ava would find no advocate there this morning. Softly, he asked, “what do you think about a bed with sides on it, so he can’t climb out? Or is that too much like a cage?”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, “I don’t know . . . he can’t keep going in the closet though.”

“Child safety knobs. You put them over doors. Until he gets a lot of manual dexterity, he won’t be able to open them.” Steve wrote something. “We can do all the closets.”

After a few minutes, Bucky pulled up in front of the shop and parked the car.

Unbuckling himself, Steve slipped from his seat to open Ava’s door and offer her a hand. “Coming, Ava?” he asked as if nothing had gone wrong earlier.

Tears running down her cheeks, Ava got out of the car without taking Steve’s hand and crossed her arms, looking down at the pavement. Bucky walked over to their side and looked at Steve, “stay with Kevin? I’ll take her into the store.”

“Okay,” Steve responded; he sighed and turned a troubled gaze to the little boy watching with wide, curious eyes.

Putting a hand on Ava’s shoulder, Bucky led the girl into the store, the bell chiming loudly.

Clint sat behind the counter, stroking Lucky and drinking coffee. He glanced up. “Hello? Day off and you still find yourself here?”

“Wasn’t part of the plan, trust me,” Bucky grumbled, motioning to the crying girl. “Ava is misbehaving, and Steve and I need to get some things for Kevin. Mind if she stays here for the day?”

“Ah,” Clint said as if he understood far more than Bucky might suspect. “So, Ava’s feeling displaced and unloved, is she?” he looked at the little girl with a sympathetic smile.

Ava pulled away from her uncle, and crossed her arms again, scowling at the floor. “I don’t like him . . .”

With a nod, as if that was the answer he’d looked for, Clint looked at Bucky. “Daniel goes through this every time we get a new foster child. Like he thinks we’re going to kick him out or something. It’s a struggle each time. You guys sure this is what you want to do?” He tapped Lucky who stood and walked to Ava, tail wagging, tongue lolling.

“I don’t want to be with Uncle Bucky,” Ava snapped, eyes narrowing as she looked up at Clint. Bucky closed his eyes, stomach dropping and letting out a sharp breath.

“You don’t?” Clint looked surprised and interested. “So, who do you want to be with then?” he asked, letting Bucky overhear this conversation so the other man might get a little insight into Ava’s needs.

“I wanna be with Steve . . . he’s _nice_.” Ava grumbled, eyes brimming with tears again.

“Ah,” Clint nodded, “I see. So, Steve’s nice because he doesn’t make sure you follow the rules or behave like a responsible lady, huh?” Clint winked at Bucky. “He’s fun, so you wanna be with him?”

“He’s not mean,” Ava explained, eyes dropping to the floor.

“So, Uncle Bucky’s mean because he feeds you, and clothes you, and makes sure you’re never cold, and that you follow the rules so you don’t go to jail . . .” Clint filled in.

Ava shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Well, by all means, Ava, I agree with _you_. I declare us founding members of the _‘I hate Uncle Bucky’_ club. Why don’t we go make posters and I’ll tell the police you want to move out and not live with him anymore. Maybe you can find a family who wants to take you in?” Clint stood, smiling, and offered Ava his hand.

Stepping closer to Bucky, Ava shook her head again, “I don’t wanna live with anyone else!”

“But, I thought Uncle Bucky was mean?” Clint looked genuinely surprised and slightly confused.

“But I don’t wanna leave! I don’t hate him!” Ava looked up at Bucky and said, “I don’t hate you!”

Clint slid back into his seat. “Oh, maybe I misunderstood, Ava. Here I thought you hated him because he was mean.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I was silly enough to think that. Maybe somebody said that to me . . .”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Bucky . . . I didn’t mean it!” Ava apologized, tears running down her cheeks.

Clint looked at Bucky and mouthed _’hug her.’_

Kneeling down, Bucky wrapped his arms around his niece, “it’s okay, Squirt. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Hey, Ava, I know you want to shop, but I could use some help here at the store. The twins both called in sick, and I need someone to help me stock books and run the register. Think you’re up to it? I can pay you ten dollars an hour for working, and meals come free,” Clint offered, standing again. The man would never work Ava more than an hour, so there was no problem with possible abuse there. “I only can hire big girls . . . ones who can follow rules and behave. You know any?” He smiled.

Sniffling, Ava wiped her nose and nodded softly, “I can help you, Uncle Clint.”

“Great!” He offered his hand. “We can start with re-sorting the children’s section. I’ve been meaning to mix it up a little. You can tell me where you think things should be switched around.”

“Okay,” Ava nodded.

“Hey, tell Uncle Bucky bye and give him a hug so he knows you’re gonna behave, okay?” Clint smiled with a nod

Hugging her uncle again, Ava said, “I love you, Uncle Bucky. Can you tell Steve I’m sorry for yelling at him?”

Returning the hug, Bucky kissed the top of her head, “I love you, too, Squirt. And yes, I’ll pass along the message.”

“Well, I hope you plan to get dirty, kiddo. Because we got us some work to do!” Clint grinned. “Lucky, go get your ball so you stay outta trouble, you mutt.” The dog barked and bounded off to the children’s section.

Giving Ava one last kiss, Bucky stood up and gave a thankful nod to Clint.

Clint winked at Bucky and took Ava’s hand. “Wait a minute,” he said as Bucky left, “you’re an employee. I don’t need to hold your hand like a baby. Get in there, employee!” He followed the child further into the store.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before getting back into the car.

Steve slid out of the back seat to the front seat again. “Everything settled?” he asked softly, worried.

“Uh - - yeah, Clint helped. I think she’s okay . . . helping him around the shop today,” Bucky answered.

“You’re crying,” Steve said just as softly, laying his hand over Bucky’s gently.

“What?” Bucky hadn’t even realized he’d been crying; flushing, he wiped the tears away and cleared his throat, “I’m sorry . . . I - - I didn’t . . .”

Steve shook his head. “Sorry? You don’t need to be sorry, Bucky. You don’t often fight with her. Ava’s probably feeling like we’re giving Kevin more attention than her, and she’s fighting back the only way a kid knows how.” He sighed. “Maybe I should have waited until we got home tonight to tell her about the doll house . . .”

“It wasn’t your fault, Steve, she has to learn that she can’t just throw tantrums to get what she wants.” Taking another deep breath, Bucky started the car.

“Sunshine Bucky,” Kevin called softly from the back seat.

**********

Most of the things they got for Kevin had to be sent by courier as they couldn’t fit the furniture into Bucky’s car. Steve had called the contractor and arranged to get him out there the next day to begin work on the spare room; the house would be terribly crowded if they tried to fit Kevin into Ava’s room with his new things. As they finally drove towards the bookstore to retrieve Ava, Steve offered again, “since it’ll only be a couple of weeks, I can put Kevin in my studio and Ava can keep her own room, Buck . . . I don’t mind.” He crossed the last item off his list.

“And for the last time, we are not getting rid of your studio, Steve,” Bucky said firmly; he didn’t know if Steve realized how much it hurt when he suggested changing the studio. Bucky had put a lot of work and thought into that room . . . he didn’t want Steve to give it up.

“I don’t want to get rid of it, Bucky. I love my studio. You gave me the perfect art room,” Steve said, looking down at a second slip of paper with several items not yet crossed off. “I just hate seeing Ava so hurt by my wanting to help another kid.”

“I know . . . this isn’t easy on anyone. But we all have to make sacrifices, including Ava. We’ll get the addition done, in the meantime they can share a room. It’ll be fine, Steve,” Bucky answered; he just wanted to get home. The day had been long and his body felt exhausted.

“I love you, Bucky,” Steve said, still softly, looking over from his lists. “Thanks for . . . for valuing me enough not to let me give up my room? I know it’s selfish, but I really like having that room to work in and even just relax in.” He looked back down. “It makes me feel re-energized.”

Smiling softly, Bucky’s eyes flickered over to Steve before returning to the road, “I love you, too, Steve. We’ll figure this out . . . and Ava will come around eventually.”

“I was thinking, Buck . . .” Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “when we were Ava’s age, or maybe a year older, we both earned money at home for chores we did. Do you think I should set Ava some chores and give her an allowance based on how much she does? Like a sliding pay scale?” The blond looked back at his boyfriend. “Even offer her some money for babysitting Kevin later when they’re more comfortable around each other? I mean, not alone in the house, but watch him while we’re doing other things in the house?”

Bucky shrugged slightly, “might give her a little more sense of responsibility.”

“Yeah, make her feel needed and appreciated. She’ll feel like a productive member?” Steve smiled at Bucky. “I know I was always so proud to be able to buy something with my own money I’d earned.”

“Oh! I almost forgot . . . you know how I visited with Becca yesterday?” Bucky said with a small smile.

“Yeah?” Steve smiled wider at Bucky’s tone, anticipating a favorable report on the brunet’s sister.

“Well . . . they’re thinking about releasing her?” Bucky looked over at Steve, trying to read his reaction.

“Wow!” Steve grinned. “She’s come a long way in the last eight years, huh? That’s great news.” Steve reached over and squeezed Bucky’s hand then pulled away so as not to distract his lover while driving.

“Yeah . . . I guess Stark was talking about setting her up in a small apartment, kinda like a halfway house sort of thing, ya know?” Bucky felt happy about his sister, maybe, starting a new life . . . a second chance; but he was also a little scared. Everything was changing.

With a nod, Steve agreed, “that’d be wisest. Give her a chance to try her wings without being totally on her own. She’ll need to relearn how to live in the real world, even finding a job and stuff. Do you think she’s up to it, Buck?” Steve smiled softly at the brunet.

“Honestly, I - - I don’t know.” Bucky pulled into the bookstore’s parking lot, the sun just beginning to set. “I also don’t know if I should tell Ava or not?”

Suddenly worried, Steve bit his lip. “I’d go slow on that, Bucky. Who knows how Becca will react to having Ava demanding to be over the apartment all the time just so she can visit her mom? Maybe . . . maybe discuss it with Riley or Bruce first?”

“You’re right . . .” Bucky nodded, releasing a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Bruce . . . see what he thinks?”

With a relieved nod, Steve shot his lover a wide, sunny smile. He got out of the car and asked, “want to get her or should I?”

“You go get her, I’ll stay in the car with Kevin,” Bucky answered.

“Okay,” Steve seemed to see no reason not to do as requested. He headed into the shop and called, “hello?”

Clint looked up and smiled. “Hey, looks like a jail break!”

“Steve!” Ava smiled up at the blond and ran over to give him a hug. “Did Uncle Bucky tell you that I was sorry for yelling at you?”

“Yes, he did,” Steve grinned, “but I like hearing it from you, better.” He hugged her. “Ready to go, Pumpkin?”

“Can’t leave until I dismiss you. You work for me, remember?” Clint asked, tone amused. He walked over to the register and worked it open then pulled out two ten dollar bills. “Okay, this one is for helping with the shelves, and this one was for helping me draw up plans for the new way we’ll arrange the children’s section. Two hours, twenty dollars.” Clint turned and offered the child her money.

Taking the money with a smile, Ava hugged Clint, “thank you, Uncle Clint.”

“Don’t spend it all on candy, kiddo,” he said, “and you’re welcome back anytime.” He winked and turned, “Lucky! Get that ball off the counter you pig!” He walked to his dog and the slobbery ball.

Turning back to Steve, Ava asked, “did you get Kevin what he needed?”

“Actually, we got everything on that list, but some is getting delivered tomorrow. Your Uncle and I want to talk to you over dinner, if you’re okay with that? We want to discuss some new house rules.” He smiled, though, like this was a welcome thing.

“Okay . . . am I still in trouble?” Ava bit her lip and looked up at Steve sheepishly.

Steve took her hand to lead her to the car, not comfortable letting the little girl on her own in the dark in New York City. “Not that I know of. You did your punishment by not going shopping. No reason to keep it going, is there?” He opened her door and made a show of _not_ buckling her in.

“Hey, Squirt, how was your day with Clint?” Bucky asked, turning to look at his niece.

“It was good! I made twenty dollars!” Ava reported proudly.

Bucky let out a low whistle, “wow!”

Steve laughed as he slid into his own seat. “Clint said she’s re-designing his children’s section.”

“That’s a big job,” Bucky smiled and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hello, Ava,” Kevin said softly, smiling sleepily at the older girl.

“Hi, Kevin,” Ava smiled.

“Kevin quiet today,” he reported. “Ava no hate Kevin now?”

Ava frowned and looked down at her lap, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “I - - I don’t hate you,” she said softly.

Kevin nodded and said, “Kevin like Ava.”

Steve offered the girl a smile of encouragement. “We decided to wait for you to pick out your swimsuit, if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” Ava let out a yawn, tired from her day of working with Clint. She leaned her head against the car window, her eyes slipping shut.

“Maybe we should discuss new rules at breakfast instead?” Steve asked Bucky with a light smile.

Looking at his niece in the rear-view mirror, Bucky nodded, “yeah, I think we all should try to get to bed early tonight. It’s been a long day.” His own arm ached, not itching, but the muscles were worn out from the eventful day.


	6. Work Plans

After Steve had cleaned up the breakfast dishes, he turned and smiled at the small family still at the dining room table. “Did we want to discuss the new idea with Ava, Buck?” He prompted, sinking onto his chair.

Still nursing a cup of coffee, Bucky took a sip and nodded, “yeah.”

With a grin, Steve slipped back into the kitchen then came back with a bag of stuff from yesterday’s shopping trip. He began laying the items on the table, in front of Ava. They included a bright pink-framed white board, colorful, vibrant dry erase markers, and a large piggy bank in the form of one of the _My Little Pony_ characters. Finally, he smiled at Bucky.

“So,” Bucky set down his mug and looked over at Ava, “Squirt, Steve and I were thinking . . . maybe you should start doing chores around the house for an allowance.”

With a nod of encouragement, Steve added, “I’ll need help now that we have a baby in the house, Ava. And you’re such a big girl, helping Clint and stuff. We thought maybe we’ve been unfair, treating _you_ like a little kid still. So, if you’d like, you can start earning money by helping me out?”

Ava smiled brightly at Steve and nodded, “I’d love to help you, Steve!”

“So, your Uncle Bucky thought maybe you would like a list of chores you can do. You would mark them off as you finish, and if they are done correctly, you get paid. The more you do, the more you get paid.” He reiterated, “that’s what your Uncle Bucky thought, at least.” He was deliberately giving his idea to Bucky in deference of helping Ava think Bucky really was looking out for her interests. She seemed far too attached to Steve, after all.

Looking over at her uncle, and then back at Steve, she asked, “what type of chores am I going to do?” She seemed very excited about helping Steve around the house, of finally having some _‘big girl’_ responsibilities.

Steve let out a small laugh. “Maybe your Uncle Bucky could show you how to run the washer and dryer? I can show you how to sort the darks from the lights, and after they're dry, how to fold them? Maybe some dusting?” He looked to Bucky, encouraging him to come up with things a lively ten year old with a quick mind could do.

“Also, keeping your room clean and maybe even learn how to run the vacuum?” Bucky added, looking at Ava with a smile.

Steve nodded, actually taking notes on his ever present list book. “How do those things sound, Ava? Do you think you could do those if we showed you? You’ve seen me do all of that.” He looked up from his list to meet Ava’s eyes.

“I can do all of those things! I wanna help!” Ava straightened in her seat and grinned widely.

Leaning closer, Steve asked, “okay, can you think of anything you want us to teach you to do? Anything you’ve seen me doing that might interest you?”

“Can you teach me how to cook some of your meals, Steve? I’m big enough now.”

“Well, let me see. Stand up and follow me, Ava,” he sounded serious, rising from his chair and leading her to the kitchen. She followed close behind.

Having her stand at the stove, he asked her, “can you reach the back burner without leaning on the stove?”

While she attempted that task, he filled a medium pot with water and put it on the counter. “And can you lift this, you may use two hands, and move it onto the front burner, count to ten, then move it back to the counter, without spilling?”

Ava grabbed the pot and did as she had been asked, the pot wobbled a bit in her hands but she didn’t spill. After putting the pot on the counter, she smiled up at Steve, beaming proudly.

He watched carefully. Finally, with a nod, he smiled, “What do you think, Bucky? Can I teach her to cook? I think she can use my step stool to get ingredients and as she gets stronger, builds those muscles, she can even make spaghetti and sauce. Of course,” he offered his lover an out, “if you’d rather see how she does with normal chores before entrusting her with our cooking, I understand.”

Leaning against the counter, Bucky offered Steve a smile, “no, she seems really excited for you to teach her how to cook.”

Laughing, Steve ruffled Ava’s hair. “She’s only been asking since she was five and I showed her pancakes.”

Smiling at the attention, Ava said, “tomorrow can we make pancakes? Can I flip them like you do?”

“I don’t see why not. Buck? Pancakes ala Ava tomorrow? We can start with the spatula and work our way up to flipping. That pan gets hot and heavy.”

“Pancakes sound great,” Bucky grinned.

“Okay, so we need to set up the rules that goes with this new responsibility, Ava, okay?” He poured the water out of the pan and set it in the drain board to drip dry. Guiding the small group back to the dining room, where Kevin sat quietly watching them from his chair, Steve gestured to the whiteboard. “When you finish a chore, you write it on the board for that day. After dinner, we check the list, review the chores, and pay you for what you completed correctly. You don’t have to work, if you’d rather play, but you only get paid if you work.” He took a breath. “Does that sound fair?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Ava said, “yeah.”

“And if you need help with a chore, or need to be taught again, ask. I’d rather reteach you than you spend a lot of effort trying to do it, and it gets done wrong and you don’t get paid. A lot of wasted work on your part. That’s no fun,” Steve continued.

Ava leaned forward and nodded once, agreeing with Steve’s statement, she didn’t say anything though, listening carefully to everything the blond said.

Finally, Steve added, “And if you can’t finish a chore, let us know.You can always pick it back up later, or just forgo the pay. Sometimes we get called away and can’t finish what we start immediately.”

“Okay,” Ava nodded and smiled.

Steve stuck out his large hand, smiling. “Deal?”

Gripping Steve’s hand with a giggle, Ava shook it and said, “deal!”

Stretching, letting out a relieved sigh, Steve said “thank goodness. I had been trying to find a way to ease my load, Ava, you wouldn’t believe it. But I think between the two of us, we’ll get this under control. Oh!” He pushed the pony bank closer. “That’s for your earnings. It’s plastic so won’t break if dropped, and there’s a key that locks the bottom so you can keep it secure.” He gestured towards her little purse on the counter. “Why don’t you try it out?”

Grabbing her bag off the counter, Ava pulled out the two ten dollar bills from last night and stuck them through the little slit on the top of the bank. “There!” She beamed brightly.

The large blond turned his smile up to Bucky but it fell away when his cellphone rang. Taking out the phone, Steve checked the caller before flicking it on. “Hello? Tony?” He stood and walked into the kitchen.

Bucky frowned as he watched his boyfriend walk into the kitchen. What could Tony want? Didn’t Steve and Tony just have a meeting only yesterday . . . what could be so important? They couldn’t have found a home for Kevin already.

Kevin looked up at Bucky. “Bucky? Uh oh . . .”

Rising to his feet quickly, Bucky took Kevin’s hand and led the little boy to the bathroom.

The boy slipped his own pants and underwear down, sitting to go pee, and then climbed down when done, looking up at Bucky. He held up his hands. “Dirty now?”

Helping the boy pull up his underwear and then his pants, Bucky lifted the boy onto the stool next to the sink. Turning on the water, the brunet lathered Kevin’s hands thoroughly with the strawberry scented soap before pulling the small hands under the water.

Kevin watched with wide grey eyes, as if fascinated by the procedure. Once his hands were clean, he brought them to his mouth and began licking at the water drops. “Tawberr?”

“Silly boy,” Bucky smiled fondly at the little boy as he reached for the towel to help dry off Kevin’s hands. “Yeah, smells like strawberries, huh?”

“Good,” Kevin beamed up at the brunet.

“How about we get you some juice, instead?” Bucky offered his hand to the little blond.

“Okay, my Bucky,” Kevin said and climbed down willingly from the stool. For the first time since bringing the kid home two days ago, the boy ran off on his own, presumably to get the recommended juice.

Shaking his head, still smiling softly, Bucky walked back into the main living area.

Kevin was in the kitchen, both hands on the handle of the refrigerator, trying his mightiest to pull it open.

Steve absently opened it for the boy and pulled out a sippy cup of juice, handing it to the boy. He shut the fridge and hung up the phone. “Buck?” He walked into the dining room, trailed by Kevin who had his cup in both hands, happily drinking. “Tony needs me to come in. There’s a protected witness coming in that they’ll need help processing.”

“Today?” Bucky asked, eyes widening, “but - - we have all those people coming? The contractor . . . the deliveries.”

“I know, but this is a high profile case. The victim’s going to need a new identity . . .he couldn’t tell me many details but it involves that chain of bank robberies across New England?” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “This is one of the few survivors.”

Bucky sighed and swallowed hard, looking around, Ava staring at the chores board and Kevin still sipping on his juice, “yeah . . . of course you need to go in. I - - I got this.”

“Look,” Steve quickly jotted on the whiteboard, “the deliveries will come in about ten or so. Have them put everything in my art room to get it out of the way. When I come back, we can put together the furniture. The contractors just need you to show the blueprints and where to work. That stuff’s in my desk in the art room, top drawer, middle. Ava can start helping you with chores, and Kevin seems to like just sitting and watching. Maybe give him some coloring stuff?”

“How long will you be gone?” Bucky asked, anxiety making his chest tighten and fingers twitch, but he quickly shoved them into his pockets to hide them from his boyfriend.

Turning back to Bucky, Steve capped the marker and put it back in the holder. “Tony said it might be about four or five hours to completely process the victim. He’s short handed and I’ll be working with Bruce and Riley. No one else is there today.” Turning to the little girl, Steve called, “Ava, Pumpkin, you’ll help out Uncle Bucky, right? Help him keep things calm?”

“Yeah,” Ava nodded, not looking up from the board.

Bucky looked at Steve with wide eyes, fingers clutching the lining of his pockets.

“Look, baby, you managed perfectly well before I dropped into your life. You’ll be fine. It’s just directing traffic. That’s easy. Lunch is already in the fridge, you don’t even have to cook it.” He kissed Bucky on the lips real quick. “I’ll be as quick as I can, Sweetheart. I promise!”

“Okay,” Bucky answered, “you - - you take as long as you need . . . we’ll be fine.”

Steve slipped his hand behind Bucky’s head and pulled him over to trace his lips over Bucky’s forehead. “I love you so much, Buck!” Steve turned and headed out the door, a cab already pulling up to the front.

“I love you too,” Bucky muttered into the empty room.

“Love you, too!” Kevin called out around his juice, which was nearly empty, a wide smile on his face.

Turning to look at the little boy, Bucky forced a smile onto his face and said, “wow! You drank that juice real fast.”

“Good . . .” he grinned back.

“Let’s go get you dressed for the day, alright?” Bucky said; he only had a little over an hour before the deliveries would get there.

“Okay. My Ava get dress?” He held out the sippy cup towards the older girl.

As Bucky led Kevin up the steps, a knock on the door followed by the doorbell ringing sounded. Kevin turned a wide, welcoming grin towards the door. “Hello,” he called, still quietly, and began to go back down the steps.

Bucky looked at the clock . . . they were early! “Ava, honey! Can you take Kevin to your guy’s room? I’ll be up there to help him get dressed in a few minutes!”

Sighing loudly, Ava slid out of the chair and took Kevin’s hand, “c’mon Kevin.” She led the little boy up the steps.

He willingly followed the girl, toddling into his room and pulling out some clothes to wear, including a pull-up. “This?”

“Sure,” Ava shrugged, sitting down on her bed.

Kevin struggled but got undressed then got redressed, including his big kid diaper. His pants were on backwards, and his shirt inside out, but he did remarkably well considering . . . for a possible six year old.

Bucky hurried over to the door and opened it, running his fingers through his hair, “Hello, sorry for the wait.”

Two guys, one large and buff, the other lean and almost sallow, stood there. The big man, a blond with rippling muscles, grinned wide. “We are Odinson Contractors. You have an appointment.”

Opening the door wider, Bucky nodded and motioned for the men to enter the townhome, “yeah . . . for a spare bedroom.”

The blond nodded. “You have plans?” He barely glanced around, though the darker haired man seemed to be taking in every nuance of the home.

“Yeah . . . yes,” Bucky nodded and headed towards the stairs, “uh - - follow me?”

“You have children,” the dark-haired man said, voice neutral. The pair began to follow the brunet up the steps.

Nodding, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah . . . we have two right now. One’s a foster child though . . . we got him pretty quickly so we’re kinda scrambling to get this addition done.”

Turning his ice green eyes on Bucky, the dark-haired man said, “they will need to stay away from the construction site. It will be dangerous. If they are kept away, we can guarantee the work will be done on time.”

Walking into Steve’s studio, Bucky swallowed. He hadn’t thought of the fact that the house would be a construction zone, not suitable for little kids. “Yeah, alright, we have friends that they can stay with.”

The man studied Bucky then shook his head, shoulder length black hair swinging with the movement. “No, they do not need to leave the home. We can begin outside, build the room, then make the connecting door at the end. As long as they are kept away from that part of the property, they should be fine.”

Relief caused Bucky’s shoulders to sag a bit.

The big blond laughed. “You frightened him, brother! He thought he would have to board his children!”

Bucky flushed and ducked his head, sifting through Steve’s desk to look for the damn blueprints.

“Well, it was a better response than the last couple, who utterly demanded that we produce a full bedroom and bath ensemble while their three terrorizing brats tried to kill themselves with our power tools. At least this man cares enough for his children’s safety to try a compromise.” The darker man offered a smile to Bucky. “We will be as careful as we may of your children, Mr. Barnes-Rogers.”

“Uh - - just Mr. Barnes, actually . . . Steve and - - we aren’t married.” Bucky finally found the blueprints and offered them over to the two contractors.

“Ah, my brother in his infinite Pollyanna attitude neglected to inform me of that.” The darker man glared at the blond. He took the plans and opened them, asking quiet, intelligent questions about certain aspects. Finally, he nodded. “Two weeks, unless you have structural or foundation problems we are unaware of. And you will not need to turn off your security until the end when we need add the door.”

Bucky paled, they had never turned off the security system since they’d gotten it installed. He knew Brock was still in prison but the thought of being unprotected made his heart pound, blood rushing through his ears.

Watching Bucky carefully, the dark-haired contractor nodded. “I believe if we made a few changes to your plans . . . we might be able to re-route the security around the new room before having to put in the door. Then you will not have to turn it off at all.”

With a laugh, the blond nodded. “My brother is clever with electricity and wiring. You can trust him to know if you need to redo the system.”

“Please . . . I don’t feel comfortable with the system being turned off. If you can keep it on, I’d really appreciate it.” Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his neck.

“Very well,” the darker man opened the plans once more and pulled out a pencil. He began making marks. “We will set up a security gate, temporary of course, to encompass your house and land. This will be controlled in the same fashion as your current security but will have the added benefit of alerting you if someone tries to get on your property at all. One we have built your addition and gotten it wired up to your system, we can either remove the gate or discuss adding the cost and allowing you to keep it, if you like it.” The man looked up. “Is that acceptable?”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded, “that’s great, thank you.”

Nodding, the man straightened completely. “I am Lucky. This is Thornton . . . call him Thor. I don’t believe my brother recalls he has a real name.” He began to leave the art room. “And for no charge, I will try to match your current decor and woodwork so the addition looks original to your home.”

Following the darker haired man out of the room, Bucky nodded, “That’d be amazing.”

Thor grinned. “Loki likes to make his work artistic. He prides himself on this.” He had pronounced his brother’s name with a Nordic flare to it. Thor trod down the stairs and stopped short, grinning. “Oh, these are the children?”

Lucky looked up and raised one eyebrow. He suddenly let out a friendly chuckle. “The boy looks to be your twin . . . of an age even, brother.”

Thor chuckled. “You ever jest. I am long out of short pants, as you know being the younger of us.”

Kevin smiled at the men on the steps.

Ava looked at the two men cautiously, she stepped closer to her uncle and asked, “who are these guys?”

Lucky dropped to his knees gracefully and smiled gently. “Why, I am Lucky Odinson, and this is my foolish brother, Thor. We have come to build a bedroom for your home.” The dark-haired man looked up at Bucky then back at Ava. “Can you promise me that you can keep your sibling from coming into the room until we are finished? He might fall and get hurt if he strays.”

“I won’t let him go into the room,” Ava nodded firmly, proud at having been given such an important job.

“Good. Thank you. You are a very responsible young lady.” Lucky stood again. “We will give you an estimate of costs before we purchase materials, if you wish.” He looked at Bucky.

“Yes, please,” Bucky swallowed, Steve had been in charge of everything to do with the addition. Bucky had no idea what the room would cost, but he was fairly sure he wouldn’t like the price . . . but they needed the spare room for Kevin.

Thor grinned down at the girl. “So, is the room for the lady?”

Bucky put his hand on Kevin’s head, running his fingers through the platinum locks, “no, it’s for Kevin.”

Lucky turned an eye to the girl, looking thoughtful. He nodded and muttered quietly as he passed Bucky, “wise, in a few years you won’t want her having an outside room access.”

The contractors left through the front door and around the house to begin looking over the land, foundation, and measurements.


	7. A Delivery of Chaos

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bucky leaned up against the wall. He really wished Steve were here. 

A loud knock and bell ringing came to the door not a minute later.

Groaning, Bucky pushed off the wall, almost stumbling over Kevin as he walked to the front door, but he managed to dodge the little boy. 

The boy smiled up at Bucky, apparently oblivious to his near injury.

Hurrying over to the door, Bucky opened it again. 

Thor stood on the stoop, frowning softly. “We have not had time to install your fence, so I have been assigned guard duty. There are two men with a delivery, they claim. From _Babies R Us_?”

“Yes, that’s okay . . . you don’t have to stand here . . . I know you have work to do.” Bucky smiled at the large man.

With a nod, Thor turned and beamed at the delivery men. “You may enter.” He strode over to his brother once more and began measuring.

As the delivery men walked up to the front door, Bucky motioned to the living room, “you can set the stuff here.”

Thor kept looking over, frowning more and more as he watched the men bringing in their numerous deliveries. Finally, he walked over and clamped a hand over the shoulder of one of the men. “Perhaps you should take a break,” the big blond growled, eyes narrowed.

The delivery man looked surprised, eyes darting around. “What? Uh . . .” but rather than yelling at the man to let him go, the delivery man said, “I didn’t do nothing! I never even came near her!”

Thor growled again.

Bucky watched the scene in front of him with curious, worried eyes, “what is going on?”

Lucky frowned and walked over to Bucky, arms crossed, eyes watchful. He didn’t interfere as his larger brother picked the man up and shook him like an errant pup. Softly, in Bucky’s ear, Lucky said, “Go inside with the children and set your alarms. I will make sure your deliveries arrive on your porch safely. Once they are gone, I will alert you.”

Backing into the house, Bucky shut the door and armed the security system. What the hell was going on? For the first time in years, the brunet’s arm flared and he stuffed his right hand into his pocket to keep from clawing at the scarred arm. Wordlessly, he slumped into a chair at the dining room table, where both Ava and Kevin sat, coloring.

On the monitor in the hall that overlooked the front stoop, he could see Thor dragging the delivery man down the sidewalk and tossing him into the street, though his words were indistinguishable. Lucky began unloading the rest of the stuff, with the confused, frightened partner delivery man, guiding the items to be placed neatly on the porch. At one point the banished delivery man protested and Lucky pulled out a small device that reminded Bucky of Nat’s taser, only smaller. The delivery man backed off and stayed off the property. About an hour passed before the landline rang.

The shrill noise made Bucky jump, quickly he shot to his feet and answered the phone, “hello?”

“This is Lucky Odinson, Mr. Barnes. Are the children able to hear me? If so, please move away from their ears.” The man sounded calm.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he walked into the kitchen, so that way Ava and Kevin couldn’t hear anything, but the brunet could still watch them. “What is going on?”

“My brother is more beauty than brains but he has one rising talent above construction. He remembers every face he has ever seen. The man we accosted is a registered sex offender. We do not know his crime, but did not feel he should be near your children. We have also reported him to the police as being within a certain distance of a child. I hope this meets with your approval and we did not overstep our bounds.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you,” Bucky breathed, closing his eyes he forced himself to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. His arm crawled and his right hand clenched in his pocket.

“They are both gone now. There is a detective here now, as well, a Detective Wilson, to take any statement you may wish to make. Will you speak with him? If you wish, Thor and I can bring your deliveries in.”

He hung up the phone. Walking over to the door, Bucky punched in the code and unlocked it; he opened the door, “Sam!”

The detective smiled and stepped in. “Hello, Bucky. Sorry for the circumstances . . . want to tell me what happened?”

Bucky shook his head, leaving the door open so Lucky and Thor could bring in the rest of the things; he gave both men a grateful smile, running his shaking left fingers through his hair, his right hand still stuffed firmly in his pocket, “I - - I don’t know, really. The Odinson brothers came to look at the blueprints for the addition and then the deliveries from _Babies R Us_ came . . . Thor got real upset . . . I guess he recognized one of the men as a registered sex offender.”

Thor spoke up, “I do not know his name, but his face I will not forget. I saw it on a webpage.”

Sam nodded. “We’ve already got someone checking into his background. If he is the person Mr. Odinson thinks he is, the man belongs nowhere near children. His offense was _not_ on a child, Bucky, but that’s the law.”

Releasing a shaky breath, Bucky nodded and looked at the children who were still coloring, he looked back at the adults.

“I’d say you’ve got all kinds of friends looking out for you, Bucky,” Sam smiled in approval.

“Yeah,” Bucky looked at the two brothers, “thank you.”

Thor put the last large box down in the living room, followed by the last of a smaller set of boxes his brother placed. With a nod to Bucky, Lucky said “We’ll get back to that fence. I plan to have it up before we leave tonight, Mr. Barnes.”

“Alright, thank you again,” Bucky nodded.

“Naturally. You would do the same for me, I am sure,” the man replied and guided his large brother from the home, back to the work they’d been hired for.

Sam smiled after them softly. “So, does Steve get all his advised hirings from the clinic and Tony?”

“What?” Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Sam, “those guys are from the clinic?”

“Yeah, the Odinson brothers are all that are left of a party of maybe fifty hostages taken at an embassy. The terrorists managed to shoot up the entire party. Those men were the only survivors, but they were teens at the time.” Sam met Bucky’s eyes. “They were also some of Howard’s first clients at the clinic. Any chance Tony gets to offer his former patients work, he jumps at. And his patients alway jump at helping him if he calls.”

Bucky really shouldn’t have been surprised, of course Steve hired members from the clinic. He’d just wish his boyfriend would’ve shared that information with him.

Tilting his head, Sam softly asked, “uh oh, trouble in paradise?”

“No . . . we’re fine,” Bucky said quickly, eyes wide, “why would you say that?”

“You look nervous and worried. I wasn’t sure if it was more than this scare today that did that?” He checked into the other room at the kids then looked at Bucky. “You know it’s no crime to take your anxiety meds for a bit again? Bruce could evaluate you? If you’re really stressed?”

“I’m fine, Sam, honest. It’s just been a crazy few days . . . Steve took on Kevin without asking me first . . . I mean it was my fault I had my phone off . . . but I’m just - -” Bucky’s mouth snapped shut as the detective cut him off.

“Wait . . . wait . . . Bucky, it’s a combined decision to get the papers and clearances for fostering. Are you saying Steve jumped the gun?” Sam frowned, worry in his brown eyes.

“No! We agreed to get the papers through . . . I just found out about Kevin after Steve had already agreed to take him on.” Bucky rushed to explain.

“Ah, that is a problem.” Sam sighed, putting away his notebook. “Sounds like Steve’s got a hero complex . . . always jumping to rescue people.” He shook his head. “Traditionally, the family gets told and has a few days to set things up before they get the kid.”

Bucky’s fingers twitched; did Steve ignore protocol to help Kevin? The brunet liked the child . . . the little boy steadily growing on him. However, Bucky would’ve like a few days to get ready, talk to Ava . . . prepare himself. “You mean it’s not normal for it to be this rushed? Steve said he needed a home right away.”

Sam glanced back into the other room. “Only in a life threatening situation, Bucky. The kid had no one else? Was at threat being kept at the clinic a couple of days?” the detective asked gently.

“All I know is that he doesn’t have any family members . . .” Bucky’s voice trailed off as if in thought.

“How old is he, Bucky?” Sam glanced in. “Three? Four maybe?”

“His file says six . . . but the mother wasn’t able to provide a date of birth . . . so no one really knows for sure,” Bucky answered honestly.

“Is his name really the one you’ve been given?” Sam frowned.

“I don’t know! Steve and I haven’t had that much time to talk . . . hell, I haven’t even looked at the file yet,” Bucky felt his heart rate pick up again.

“Get the file,” Sam ordered softly. “I’ll help you go through it.” He crossed his arms, still staring at the happily coloring child, who seemed to be unable to keep his colors within the bold black lines.

Immediately doing as he was told, Bucky hurried up the stairs and walked into the bedroom he shared with Steve. The file sat on top of the brunet’s dresser; grabbing it, he made his way back to the detective who’d become a very close friend over the past few years.

Sam nodded and took the file. He sank down at the island in the kitchen, still able to see the kids at the dining room table. “Okay, Bucky, let’s go through this.”

Sitting down on the stool next to Sam, Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear and leaned over to get a closer look at the file.

“We have a general description: light blond hair, grey eyes,” he skimmed through height and weight, both of which were far too small for a six year old. Sam placed a finger on the page, “he has not begun losing teeth, having all his baby teeth. Marks him at six or younger. He refers to himself in the third person, by name, a habit of toddlers before they get to school or socialize with other kids. He wears diapers, wets the bed, but seems to be partially potty trained.” Sam frowned, “that could be due to the abuse he suffered.” He trailed his finger down the page then nodded. “Right here, Buck. It says that there is every evidence that this boy did not belong with the woman who was trying to sell him. She made a statement early on that she _‘paid good money for him, but he hasn’t brought in near enough to pay the bills’_.”

“Jesus,” Bucky hissed quietly, reading the page intently.

“This means she’s been selling him, too.” Sam looked disgusted. “It’s possible this kid’s been abused in . . . more ways then neglect, Bucky. This may be why Steve jumped the gun and took him when offered him.”

Bucky shook his head and pushed away from the island, beginning to pace in the kitchen. The fingers on his left hand tangled themselves in his hair.

“Buck? He needs serious help . . . counseling among other things. He might be too much for you two to take on. You can ask Tony to find a more stable placement? One that can spend a lot of time with the kid, helping him through his life?”

“Stable?” Bucky snapped, eyes hardening on Sam. “What, I’m too crazy to handle him?”

“No,” Sam said reasonably, “Steve’s suffered exactly the same abuse as this kid, if I don’t miss my guess. He’s too close to it. This might send _Steve_ over the edge, Buck, not you.”

Shaking his head, growling under his breath, Bucky looked over at the other man, “I’ll take some time off work . . . I’ve got plenty of vacation time.”

“Give up summer semester, Bucky. Finish later in the spring rather than the fall,” Sam advised. “And see if you can get Steve to stop volunteering at the clinic just for the summer, so he can work with counseling, too. He’s going to need to start all over again. This kid’s case will bring lots of horrors back.”

Not liking the idea of holding off on school, but seeing no other choice, Bucky nodded, making a small noise of agreement. “Yeah, I haven’t registered for any classes yet . . . so it shouldn’t be a problem. And I’ll talk to Steve when he gets home.”

Carefully, flipping through the pages of the small file, Sam asked “by the way, Bucky, did Steve ever tell you how he wound up with Brock? How he determined he’s gay?”

“Uh . . . no? We actually don’t talk about Brock hardly at all,” Bucky admitted, “did he say something to you?”

“Yeah, he did.” Sam sighed and stretched, glancing at the kids, blinking as he met Kevin’s open, curious gaze. “Uh . . . your boy’s staring at me . . .” Sam smiled a little and noted that the boy smiled wider. “He’s a sweetie, ain’t he?”

“He does that,” Bucky grinned softly, “yeah, he is . . . just wants to be loved.”

“Well, this file’s pretty clear, Buck, to someone who’s dealt with this kind of thing. The boy’s most likely about six, but he’s been malnourished and abused so much, his body hasn’t grown right. He’ll need a lot of medical help, too.” Sam closed the file. “Now, about your bigger boy. I don’t wanna step on toes, but I’m pretty sure he’d tell you if you asked.” Sam ran a hand through his dark hair.

Clearing his throat, Sam added. “Steve was in college for a couple of years when he met Brock. He’d just hit that growth spurt he talked about? The one that seemed to come at the same time he outgrow his childhood asthma. Brock started complimenting him, guiding him in the gym where he started, and helped him get his art noticed by the right people on campus. Brock began grooming him immediately. By the time Steve caught on, he was so beaten down he didn’t protest.” Sam looked at Bucky.

“And while Brock was grooming him . . . that’s when he realized he was gay?” Bucky asked.

“That’s when Brock told him he was gay, Buck,” Sam said softly.

Bucky stumbled back, his back hitting the fridge, “you mean that - - Steve never realized it himself? Sam! That’s a big deal!”

Sighing, Sam shook his head, keeping his voice soft, firm, “Not exactly. What he told me is that he realized he was in love with you. Gender didn’t come into it. He didn’t care if you were a guy or a girl, you were the person he wanted to be with.” With another shake of his head, Sam looked down at the file. “He said that Brock would sometimes bring friends over and make them put on displays for him, and Steve didn’t care either way if they were men or women. He’s slept with a couple of women, under Brock’s direction, but didn’t enjoy it.” Sam looked up, “but he didn’t enjoy sleeping with men, either.”

Swallowing hard, Bucky tried to take in all the new information, his head spinning and he stuffed his right hand into his pocket again.

“Now, I don’t know how the last five years have gone in the bedroom for you two, but he hasn’t talked about this since we first met, you know? He could have formed very real opinions since.” Sam sighed. He hated dumping this one his friend; he should have kept quiet.

“Yeah,” Bucky’s voice cracked and he had to clear his throat to regain control, “uh - - thanks for telling me?”

Sam stood and walked over to Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Buck, I told you so that you and Steve would _talk_ to each other. Figure things out.” He shook his head. “I think he really loves you and wants to be with you. I don’t claim to know how sex is for him, just that he loves _you_.”

Bucky nodded and his eyes fell, “I - - I . . . uh, have to get lunch ready for the kids.” He changed the subject, not wanting to talk about Steve maybe or maybe not enjoying sex with him anymore.

“Yeah, figured as much. Want some help with that? Give you a chance to think while I babysit a bit?” Sam offered.

“No, if I get thinking I won’t stop . . . I need to distract myself.” Bucky muttered, knowing how easy it was for him to get lost in his own mind.

“Well, maybe set up a play fort with the kids? Or let them help you unpack those boxes?” Sam sighed. “If I can’t help for lunch, I should get back to work. You call if you need me?”

“Yeah, I’ll call. Thank you, Sam. Say hello to Riley for me? You two should come over for dinner soon?” Bucky smiled slightly.

Flushing, still surprised after these few years to be dating someone as wonderful as the clinic therapist, Sam nodded. “Sure will. Hey, Ava, your uncle needs help with lunch!” he called and headed towards the front door. “Buck, lock up after me?”

Bucky followed the detective to the door and with a final wave, shut the door behind his friend and locked it again. He turned back to the children, “alright, who's hungry?”

Kevin stood directly behind Bucky - - how easily he could have just run out the door if so inclined. “Hello, Bucky,” he smiled, his voice soft as always.

“Hello, Kevin. You hungry? Ready for some lunch?” Bucky asked as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Okay,” he agreed readily and walked into the kitchen. He plopped down onto the floor by the sink and looked up at Bucky expectantly.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” Ava asked, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate of premade sandwiches.

“Kevin eat out Frankie’s bowl,” the boy answered happily.

Bucky scooped up the little boy in his arms and hitched him onto his hip, “well, Kevin, we do things a little differently here. Here, we eat at the table and on plates. Does that sound okay?”

“No bowl?” Kevin looked interested.

“No bowl,” Bucky nodded and set the boy on the stool. He unwrapped the plate of sandwiches and handed one to the boy.

“Okay,” Kevin agreed. He began to eat what he was given, without even checking what was inside the slices of bread.

Ava grabbed one and took a big bite, after swallowing, she asked, “when is Steve getting back?”

“He should be home within a few hours, he hasn’t called me to say otherwise . . . so he should be home for dinner.” Bucky answered, looking over at his niece. His stomach clenched uncomfortably and he knew if he tried to eat, it would come straight back up, so he didn’t pick up a sandwich for himself.

After a while, the little boy held out his empty sippy cup. “Juice, Bucky?” It seemed to be the first time he’d asked for anything.

“Sure thing,” Bucky smiled and took the cup from Kevin’s hands. He walked over to the fridge and filled the sippy cup with the apple juice. Putting the carton back, Bucky softly kicked the door closed and handed the full cup back to the little boy.

Looking puzzled, the boy looked at the cup then slowly looked back up to Bucky. He held the cup out and, very quietly, said, “Juice . . . Bucky?”

Bucky titled his head, confusion filling his grey eyes, “yeah, the juice is for you.”

The boy looked towards Ava then back at Bucky, eyes beginning to widen. Slowly he held out the cup again and whimpered, “Juice?”

Completely lost, Bucky looked at Ava and then back at the little boy, “you can drink it, Kevin. It’s yours.”

The boy pulled the sippy cup back over, wide grey eyes tear washed as they watched Bucky, he hesitated and put the end in his mouth and began to suck on it, all the while watching Bucky.

“Why are you crying?” Ava asked, her voice curious as she tilted her head.

The little boy cringed as if he expected to be hit with her words. He sucked harder at the juice and sobbed, then his eyes opened wider and there was real fear in them.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky cooed gently, stepping closer, “it’s okay.” Slowly he pulled the cup out of Kevin’s hand, “go slow, buddy.”

The boy easily let Bucky have the cup, juice dribbling out of his mouth and down onto his shirt. He sobbed again, and then threw up the juice and sandwich. Kevin began crying harder, hiccoughing and almost choking. He never got very loud, but he still seemed extremely distressed.

“Ew!” Ava cried out, backing up.

“Ava, go to your room, please?” Bucky asked, trying to keep his voice calm, regardless of his own anxiety.

Ava left without question, running up the stairs.

Bucky picked up the boy again and held him close, rubbing soothing circles on his back, “shhh . . . it’s okay. You’re okay.”

As the crying got harder, though no louder, the boy began to tremble then shake pretty hard.

Bucky sat down on the ground, back against the counter, the boy’s trembling body causing a lot of concern. “Kevin . . . Kevin?” He pulled the boy away slightly to fully look at him.

His eyes were rolled up into his head, he was foaming slightly at the mouth, and his body now convulsed quite badly.

“Oh my God!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide and he set the boy on the ground, taking off his shirt to ball it under the little boy’s head so that Kevin wouldn’t smack it against the hard tile of the kitchen floor.

The landline rang.

Bucky scrambled to pick up the line, still kneeling next to the boy, “Hello?” He hoped it was Steve calling to check in.

Lucky’s calm voice came over the line. “Mr. Barnes? What happened?”

“It’s - - It’s Kevin! He -- He started - - I think he’s having a seizure!” Bucky answered, his voice very worried and his hands trembled.

“Stay on the phone with me. Thor, call nine-one-one and tell them the toddler is convulsing. Mr. Barnes, loosen any tight clothing and turn his head in case he vomits.” The contractor’s voice remained calm, in control.

Doing as he was told, Bucky turned Kevin’s head.

“Do you know how long it has been going on?” the man asked.

“Less than a minute,” Bucky answered.

“Keep track, if you can, and stay by him. If he starts to choke, try to clear his airway, but other than that, just get all hard, sharp, or dangerous objects out of the way. Do not be alarmed, I am setting off your alarms so the police come.” This statement was followed by the blaring of the house alarms going off. “Does the little girl know how to unlock the door?”

“Yeah - - Ava!” Bucky called out, “answer the door please!”

“Tell her to unlock the door and come to me. I will watch her while you go to the hospital with the boy. Is there someone I should call? That friend you mentioned earlier?”

Ava could be heard running down the steps and then she unlocked the door, opening it wide. She covered her ears as the loud noise hadn’t stopped yet.

Lucky stood on the porch, looking quite calm in the chaos. He nodded and said, “good girl. I am Lucky. What’s your name?”

“Ava!” She shouted, still covering her ears.

“Ava, your sibling is not well. Do you have a friend I can bring you to? Can you tell me a number to call?” He allowed Bucky to hear his calm voice, his questions of the little girl.

“My Auntie Nat and Clint,” She relayed the number she had long since memorized.

“Do you see that big man there? My brother Thor? Tell him to call that number. Tell him to tell Auntie Nat to come right here to get you. Is that clear, Ava?” Lucky strode into the house and straight to the kitchen, though he did not hang up yet. Instead, directly into the phone, he said, “Mr. Barnes, hang up the phone.”

Ava nodded and ran off to do as she was told.

Bucky hung up the phone and looked up at Lucky with wide, fearful eyes.

Lucky matched the action and pocketed his cell phone. He knelt by the boy, who had stopped shaking and lay there quite quietly, looking dazed, almost absent. “This is called the postictal phase, Mr. Barnes. It lasts a few minutes and will end in headache, nausea, and confusion. He most likely won’t recall any of this. You may hold him now.”

Shakily, Bucky reached out and held Kevin tight, fingers running through the little boys hair.

Sirens arrives just as Bucky took Kevin into his arms. With a nod, Lucky calmly stated, “do you have medical records you can provide the hospital, Mr. Barnes? Do you have a preference of hospital?”

“The file,” Bucky reported, jutting his chin to the island where the file still sat next to the plate of sandwiches. “And - - we should go to the Maria Stark Clinic.”

Nodding, Lucky gracefully rose and retrieved the file. “I will make certain of it, Mr. Barnes. Do you wish me to remain with your house while it is unlocked? Auntie Nat should come for Ava shortly.” He tucked the file under Bucky’s arm.

Relief flooded Bucky’s eyes as he continued to cradle Kevin close to his chest, “good . . . thank you, Lucky.”

“You would do the same for me, I am sure, Mr. Barnes,” Lucky repeated his claim of earlier. “Now, go with the EMT and take care of the boy. I see a small wagon pulling up, is that Auntie Nat?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered.

“I will explain to her.” He stood and helped Bucky to rise, child and all. After the EMT got the boy onto the stretcher, Lucky walked out to meet Nat. “Hello, I am the contractor, Lucky Odinson. Mr. Barnes is going to the hospital. The boy had a seizure. You can take Ava, yes?” He remained calm the entire time.

Natasha nodded; eyes worried, she reached over and tugged Ava closer to her “Of course.”

“I was requested to stay with the house, since it is unlocked; however, if you know a person Mr. Barnes trusts to stay, I will not be offended.” Lucky watched her with his ice green eyes.

“I can stay here? With Ava?” Natasha offered.

“That’s probably best, in fact. Do you wish my help cleaning the mess?”

“No, you two have done enough, thank you for helping,” Nat offered both men a small, concerned smile.

“Then we will continue getting that fence installed. We intend to have it active before we leave tonight,” Lucky nodded firmly. “Thor, we will eat a large dinner. We skip lunch.” And the contractor pulled his older brother back to their work.


	8. Underlying Issues

Bucky sat in the same back corner of the ambulance as he had done five years ago. He watched Kevin intently, wanting nothing more than to reach out and take the little boy’s hand, but not wanting to get in the way, he settled for wringing his own together in his lap.

Finally after several long seconds the EMT looked up. It was Sharon. She offered Bucky a smile. “Hey, Bucky. Do you know how this started? Playing too hard? Hit his head? Eat something odd?”

“I gave him a sandwich and juice?” Bucky offered, lifting horrified eyes to Sharon. Had he caused this?

“Does he have any allergies?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky answered her.

“Okay, can you list exactly what you fed him on that chart there? I’m just trying to set an IV to get him fluids.” Sharon carefully managed to get the IV in the boy’s hand then strapped the arm to a small board.

Taking the clipboard, Bucky carefully began to write out everything that Kevin had eaten that day, his hands trembling violently. The thought that this could be his fault made him want to cry . . . Steve had said Kevin didn’t have any allergies.

They made it to the clinic and they were rushed in through the double doors, Bucky staying close to the edge of the bed though he didn’t hinder Sharon at all.

Bruce ran out to meet them and began helping, checking on the boy, getting information from his nurse, and generally working in his calm, efficient manner. They did not prevent Bucky from coming into the room with them, either, letting him sit in the corner and even hold Kevin’s free hand, so tiny in his.

Bucky never tore his eyes off Kevin, watching the small boy in the large hospital bed. He ran his fingers over the tiny knuckles and even pressed his lips to the limp hand.

Finally, Bruce asked softly, “so I see you took on this case, Bucky. That’s good. He’s had a horrible life. He needs good people to show him how to live.” The doctor stepped back and smiled. “We’ll keep him for observation, but your old apartment’s taken. Would you mind moving into a different one?”

“I need to stay with him,” Bucky said, not looking at the doctor, seeming oblivious to the fact that he still wore no shirt, the one he wore still lying forgotten on his kitchen floor.

“Of course,” Bruce answered. “Should I send for Steve? He should be having a late lunch.”

“Please?” Bucky practically whimpered, he scooted closer to the bed.

“I’ll have him come down. How’s your girl? She with your friends right now? Daniel’s foster parents?” Bruce asked gently as he moved for the door.

“Yeah, Nat’s with her now,” Bucky answered.

Nodding, Bruce slipped from the room, leaving Sharon straightening things up. “Well, he’s resting comfortably now, Bucky. In fact, I think he’s waking up. He’ll be confused, but we’ve given him something for the rest of the symptoms.” She touched Bucky’s right arm gently. “The doctor will want to test him for a series of illnesses, including Meningitis and Epilepsy.”

Still not looking anywhere but at Kevin, Bucky nodded and said softly, “of course.”

His grey eyes opened and he looked around, making a soft whimpering noise. Kevin called out, almost whispering, “Mamma?”

Bucky’s heart nearly broke, but he kept his emotions in check, “hey, buddy, it’s me . . . Bucky?”

Immediately the boy looked up at Bucky, studying him. “Mamma?” he asked, soft voice filled with fear and uncertainty.

Shaking his head softly, Bucky squeezed Kevin’s hand gently, “she’s not here, Kevin.”

Sobbing, Kevin grabbed onto Bucky’s hand with his free hand, turning his head to bury his face in the man’s hand and arm. “Good,” the whisper came so softly, it could have been missed.

Bucky looked up at Sharon, “is it okay if I get in the bed with him?”

“Just be careful of the IV, Bucky, but yeah. I recommend it.” She smiled. “Think he wants something to drink?”

Carefully, Bucky slipped his hand out of Kevin’s only to climb into the bed and positioned himself so that the little boy could cuddle into his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around the boy, soothingly rubbing Kevin’s arm. “You thirsty, Kevin?” He asked gently.

The boy lifted widening eyes to Bucky and whispered through a raspy throat, “Juice? Bucky . . . juice?”

Nodding, Bucky looked back up to Sharon.

“Well, we’ve got water right now until Bruce clears him for anything else. He’s got tests first, okay?” She reached into the cabinet and took out a sterile sippy cup, unwrapping it and filling it at the sink. She offered it to the man.

Taking the cup, Bucky offered it down to the little boy, “here you go.”

The boy accepted the cup, one hand one it, the other still strapped to the board. He sipped then offered it back. “Juice . . . Bucky?”

Taking the cup, Bucky looked down at the boy and thought of the moments right before the seizure. A sudden realization dawned in his eyes.

“That’s sweet,” Sharon said, not privy to Bucky’s thoughts. “He wants to share his water.” She smiled.

Smiling softly, Bucky took a small sip from the cup, watching the little boy’s reaction.

Kevin’s face broke into a delighted beaming smile and he nodded encouragingly. “Juice!” he claimed.

“Thank you for sharing with me, Kevin. That’s very nice of you,” Bucky grinned, running the fingers of his left hand through Kevin’s hair.

Kevin leaned into Bucky’s chest and sighed happily. “Okay,” he agreed.

The door opened softly and Steve, looking tired despite only having been there since breakfast, looked in. He frowned and strode quickly to Bucky’s side, reaching over to touch Bucky’s head then Kevin’s. “What happened, Sweetheart?”

Looking up at his boyfriend, Bucky nearly lost it, the dam he’d built almost breaking, but he took a deep breath and shook his head, still running his fingers down Kevin’s arm. “He had a seizure.”

“Seizure?” Steve’s voice went faint but he cleared his throat. “They’ll need to add that to his file. Do they know why yet?” He sat carefully on the edge of the bed next to Bucky.

“No,” Bucky answered softly, “they are going to keep him overnight for observation. They have to run some tests.”

The tall blond nodded and ran his hand down Bucky’s arm gently. “Okay, whatever they need to do,” he agreed. “Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

“I’m not the one that just had a seizure, Stevie,” Bucky avoided answering the question.

“Yeah, but you are the one who’s sitting in the clinic without your shirt. So, I thought maybe they had to check you over, too?” Steve’s voice sounded truly worried.

Gasping softly, Bucky looked down and finally realized he didn’t have his shirt; he flushed and the fingers of his left hand twitched slightly. “No, I - - I’m fine, I took it off to lay it under Kevin’s head . . . we were in the kitchen.”

Nodding, Steve stroked Bucky’s arm again. “So, you’re okay? Where’s Ava? Need me to go get her?”

“Nat’s with her at the house,” Bucky reported, “but one of us should stay here tonight with Kevin. I don’t wanna leave him alone.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Do you think Ava could come stay here the night? She’s older this time.” He stroked again, “and she wouldn’t feel excluded?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly, looking down at Kevin and then back up at Steve, “I’m going to take some time off, Steve. Also, I’m not doing the summer semester . . . I’ll just graduate in the spring instead.”

“You sure, Buck?” Steve looked him in the eyes as best he could in their positions. “I can handle them . . .”

“No, you can’t, Steve,” Bucky said honestly, “Ava is acting out and with Kevin . . . it’s just not the right time for me to be gone all the time.”

Sighing, Steve softly responded, “maybe I should have told Tony no . . .”

“Well, you can’t change it now, Steve. We just have to take it day by day. I have a lot of vacation time . . . so we won’t lose any income or anything.” Bucky shifted on the bed, pulling Kevin in closer.

“I . . . Buck, I don’t want you to give up anything . . .” Steve began.

“That’s not up to you, Steve . . . this is my choice.”

“So, you can give up school and work but I can’t sacrifice for us?” Steve asked bitterly then shook his head, hand going to the back of his neck. “Never mind . . . I’m just tired . . . stressed right now.” He looked at the floor.

“What are you talking about?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he kept his tone light, “sacrifice? I have vacation time, Steve. I ain’t giving up anything. And yeah, I’m a little stressed too . . . but we gotta be honest with each other. I can’t have you shutting down on me, too.”

“Shutting down?” Steve looked troubled. He took a breath and sighed. “Tony asked if I could spend more time here, working with a couple of cases. I was going to tell him no, though, since we should be together this summer.”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky shook his head, “you should tell him yes, Steve.”

“Yes?” Steve looked surprised. “Why?”

“If Tony is asking for you, he really needs the help. I can take care of the kids, I’ve done it before.” Bucky offered, trying his best not to offend his boyfriend. Steve loved volunteering at the clinic, and Bucky wasn’t about to be the one to take that away.

“Are you sure? I . . . I don’t want you to think I’d be taking these shifts just because you took vacation.” The blond looked worried.

“I’m sure, Steve.” Bucky nodded, “I got this.”

Steve gave Bucky a thankful squeeze. “You should meet her, Bucky, She’s amazing,” he smiled suddenly.

“Her?” Bucky furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, the case Tony wants me to take? Her name is Pepper . . . right now, that is. She’s in witness protection. She’s here because she’s trying to get physical therapy for her leg and arm.” Steve’s voice sounded enthusiastic. “I think you’d like her, Bucky, she’s full of sass.”

Bucky tried to push down the twinge of worry and jealousy, Steve’s eyes lit up when he talked about this . . . Pepper. Swallowing, Bucky looked down at Kevin again, “I’d like to focus on Kevin and Ava,” he muttered.

“Of course, Buck,” Steve agreed. “I didn’t mean you should volunteer or anything. I just think it would be nice for you to meet her. But,” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “it’s actually against the rules unless you’re a tenant or a volunteer.” He stroked his boyfriend’s arm again, and leaned in to kiss him gently on the neck. “I love you,” he whispered in Bucky’s ear.

“I love you, too, Stevie,” Bucky breathed back.

Steve kissed again, smiling against Bucky’s neck. “Did everything arrive okay, Buck?”

Thinking it best not to tell Steve about the potential registered sex offender, Bucky nodded and lied easily, “yeah, it’s all in the living room though, since we didn’t get a chance to make room in the art room.”

“Oh, sorry,” Steve murmured, flushing. “I’ll get things taken care of tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright,” Bucky nodded, “hopefully we can take him home tomorrow.”

Bruce knocked and peeked in. “Hey, mind if I take some blood?”

Nudging Kevin gingerly, Bucky said, “hey, buddy.”

The little boy opened his eyes and yawned. “My Bucky?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled, “the doctor needs to run some tests to see what’s making you sick, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy answered readily.

“Brave boy,” Bruce murmured with a smile. He sat carefully on his rolling stool and began working on drawing blood from the boy with a butterfly needle. After several tubes, and the boy quietly watching the blood fill the tubes with fascination, Bruce finished, putting a Pokemon bandaid on the boy’s hand.

“How long do you think he’ll need to stay?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Most of the tests can be waited for at home, so just the night to make sure he recovers from the seizure all right,” Bruce responded with a smile. “He’s not running any fever and shows none of the other symptoms of meningitis, so he can go home in the morning unless he has another episode tonight.” The doctor passed the tubes to Sharon and stood, smiling. “Any questions for me, Bucky? Steve?”

“Is it possible that he had the seizure from being upset? He - - he was crying pretty hard before he had it?” Bucky asked, still worried that he might’ve triggered the episode.

“Not unless it has something to do with the heart or brain. We can do some scans if you’d prefer? But,” Bruce smiled, “seeing by his calm, happy demeanor, I think it’s more due to an underlying seizure disorder, like childhood epilepsy. One out of eight children are prone to it at some point in infancy or childhood. Usually they grow out of it, too.” Bruce reached over and tweaked the boy’s foot, eliciting a soft giggle.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, slightly relieved, “that’s good.”

“It can be terrifying,” Bruce confirmed, “but we know how to deal with it. However, try to keep him calm tonight. Shall I call Nat to bring over some toys and Ava? We can move the lot of you into an apartment for the night?”

Steve stroked Bucky’s arm but left the decision up to his boyfriend, since Bucky seemed inclined to suddenly take over the decisions of the children that summer. The sudden change in house policy confused Steve, but he would roll with it.

Bucky waited for Steve to say something, the blond usually at least offering his opinion one way or another, but after several long moments of silence, he frowned softly, looking over at Steve. Why was Steve having him make most of the decisions? Bucky didn’t mind making _some_ , but being forced to make them all caused his heart rate to increase.

Steve looked down at the floor, hand gently caressing Bucky’s shoulder.

Thrown off by the odd behavior, Bucky looked down at the boy who was already falling back asleep in his arms, “uh - - yeah? Can you ask her to bring me a shirt, as well?”

“Sure,” Bruce smiled and strolled out.

Steve sighed and slid from beside Bucky on the bed.

“You leaving?” Bucky asked, eyes worried.

“Uh . . . no?” Steve asked, worriedly. “I was going to the bathroom?”

Bucky flushed and ducked his head, cursing himself for sounding so desperate and needy. “Oh . . . okay, sorry.”

With a nod, Steve headed into the restroom. He began closing the door then hesitated. After a moment of indecision, he left it partly open in case Bucky wanted him. Finishing quickly, Steve washed his hands carefully and dried them then entered the main exam room again. He looked uncertain what to do, where to stand or sit. “So, uh . . . did you get lunch yet?”

“The kids did . . . but Kevin threw it up,” Bucky answered, looking down at the little boy again, caressing the thin arm.

“It’s good he didn’t choke,” Steve breathed. “You’re amazing, Buck . . .” He reached over and stroked the boy’s foot.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “nah - - Lucky Odinson is amazing. I was just freaking out.”

“Lucky Odinson?” Steve snorted in amusement. “He’s a bossy know-it-all, but he’s okay.” He smiled at Bucky. “Hey, I’ll go get you some lunch and come right back, okay?”

“I’m not hungry,” Bucky said; the thought of food made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. “But if ya gotta go be with your case person or whatever . . . we’ll be fine. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“Uh,” Steve paused, smile fading. “Okay, Buck, If you’re sure.” He stroked Kevin’s foot again. “If you need anything just call. I’ve got my phone . . .”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said softly, eyes not meeting Steve’s, a pulse of anger flushing through him. He hadn’t actually expected Steve to take him up on the offer . . . but it was his fault for offering in the first place.

Quietly, Steve turned and walked from the room. He went to the front room to wait for Ava to arrive with Nat, sinking onto a chair, head in his hands. What the hell happened? Everything had been so good . . . and now . . . things had turned. He hadn’t wanted to believe it would happen - - foolish, really. But he had thought things were good. Somehow, things weren’t going right anymore.

Natasha walked into the clinic, holding Ava’s hand, a small duffel strung over her shoulder; seeing Steve in the waiting room, looking dejected . . . she paused. Had something serious happened? Bruce hadn’t sounded concerned over the phone. “Steve? Everything okay?”

Looking up, eyes haunted, Steve cleared his throat. He stood and offered a wavery smile. “Hey, thanks for coming for Ava . . . and bringing her here. We’ll be staying overnight and Kevin might be allowed to go home tomorrow,” he reported, reaching for Ava’s hand.

Eyes searching Steve’s face, Nat leaned in, “what’s wrong? Where’s Bucky?”

“Bucky wanted to be in with Kevin,” Steve offered another smile, though his eyes seemed worried. “Bruce thinks it might be epilepsy, but they’re running tests. You got his shirt? Buck was really worried about getting a shirt,” he sighed.

Steve was avoiding her questions; she knew something was wrong . . . very wrong. “Steve . . .” she drawled, looking at the blond intently.

“Bucky said he was going to be taking vacation? But maybe I should let him tell you. Not really my place,” he murmured and led Ava down the hall. “Wanna see Uncle Bucky and Kevin?” he asked the girl.

Natasha stood frozen in the waiting room, so unused to the odd behavior Steve was showing. She hadn’t seen the blond act like this since he was with Rumlow. “Steve!” She called out.

The man froze, waiting, still holding the little girl by the hand. “Yeah?” he asked, looking down the hall, back to Nat.

Rolling her eyes, she strode over to the man, “forgot something?” She asked, motioning to the duffel bag.

“You’re not coming?” Steve sounded surprised, looking at the woman. “I thought you would want to talk to Bucky?” He reached for the bag, though.

“Do you want me to come in?” Natasha asked, trying to gauge the tall man’s reaction.

Steve offered a genuine smile to Nat. “I don’t mind you and Bucky hanging out. You’re friends, Nat.” He shook his head. “I’d never want Bucky to give up his friends.”

“That isn’t what I asked, but okay,” Nat shook her head, “ya gonna lead the way?” She motioned towards the hall.

“Sure,” Steve turned and led Natasha towards the small room. “They’ll put us in an apartment overnight, but for now, they’re in an exam room.”

When Natasha opened the door, the three of them were greeted by the sweet sight of both Bucky and Kevin fast asleep, the brunet’s arm still draped over the little boy’s shoulder. Looking over at Steve, Nat said in a whisper, “I don’t think he’s feeling up to talking.”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered back, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend holding the little boy. “I’ll let him know you were here?” He put the duffel down and turned to Ava, scooping her up in strong arms to sit her carefully on the bed.

The movement caused Bucky to jerk awake, looking around the room slightly confused.

Steve froze instantly, eyes widening, biting his lip. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Natasha eyed the blond with confused eyes; it looked as if Steve was afraid of Bucky. Which was absurd . . . why would Steve be scared of Bucky?

“Uncle Bucky! Auntie Nat cleaned up the throw up,” she scrunched her nose up in disgust, “it was gross!”

Blinking a few times to get his bearings, Bucky looked at his niece, “that was very nice of her.” His voice still sounded a bit raspy due to just waking up.

Steve squatted to go through the duffel and retrieved Bucky’s shirt. Standing, he offered the material to his boyfriend, with a small smile. “You wanted a shirt, Buck?”

Looking over at Steve, Bucky nodded and took the shirt, “thanks.” The brunet frowned when he realized that the only way to get the garment on would be to wake Kevin. Shaking his head, he dropped the shirt to cover most of his left arm, figuring he’d put it on when the little boy next woke.

Steve sighed and smiled down at Ava. “So, what do you think of this place, Ava? They help people who are sick.”

“Kevin is sick . . . he threw up all over the counter,” Ava said, looking up at Steve.

“Yeah, but they’re trying to make him better,” Steve answered, sitting on the doctor’s rolling stool. “I bet that was scary when he got so sick?”

“It was gross!” Ava said, shuddering slightly.

“Steve?” Nat called softly from the door.

“Yeah?” He looked up, still smiling from his discourse with Ava.

“Mind if I talk to you for a moment?” Nat asked.

“Sure?” Steve stood up and looked over Bucky and the kids. “You okay, Bucky?”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, I got this.”

Nodding, Steve walked from the room into the hall and leaned against one of the walls, his smile dropping.

Crossing her arms, Nat looked at Steve intently, “mind sharing what’s going on, Steve? Why you looked like Bucky was about to smack you?”

“Bucky never hits me,” Steve answered, frowning.

“Did I say he did? I asked why you looked so terrified of him?” Natasha pushed, tilting her head slightly.

“Afraid of Bucky?” Steve looked surprised. “I told you, Bucky’d never hurt me. I have no reason to be afraid of him.”

“I know Bucky would never hurt you, he’d throw himself off a cliff before doing anything to hurt you . . . which is why I’m surprised by the way you looked at him when you woke him up.” Her eyes searched Steve’s face.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to wake him up. He’s exhausted, Nat, and . . . I’m not sure what I can do. He . . . he doesn’t seem to want me to do anything.” He hugged himself.

“What do you mean? Explain it to me,” she said softly, uncrossing her arms.

Steve bowed his head and sighed. “We talked about fostering kids. Tony approved us and he needed to place Kevin in an emergency. He said Kevin’s life depended on it. I knew we’d talked about it, so I brought Kevin home to Bucky. And everything fell apart after that.”

“He seems to be bonding quite well to Kevin,” Natasha looked puzzled, her eyes flickering to the door of Kevin’s exam room.

“Yeah, he is,” Steve sighed. “And Ava’s doing okay. She’s acting like you and Clint warned me she would, but we seem to be working it out.”

“But?” She prodded gently.

“But it’s not the kids, Natasha.” He shook his head and lifted his eyes. “Something’s wrong between Bucky and me now. I keep trying, but he’s angry and I don’t know . . . he told me he was holding off graduating till later, not doing the semester. He’s taking vacation this summer, too, talking about taking care of the kids. I mentioned taking time off, and he told me not to. He insisted I keep working.” Steve shook his head, “earlier when I offered to help out by letting Kevin have my studio while we waited on the spare room, he got upset with me. He wouldn’t let me even finish talking. I don’t wanna give up the studio, but Bucky’s the only one making sacrifices . . . he won’t let me help.”

“This is a big step for you two . . . you guys aren’t even married yet and now you’re raising a family together. He’s bound to be a little stressed out, you’ve only had Kevin for two days.”

“God,” Steve let his head fall back against the wall, eyes closing. “I would love to marry Bucky, Nat.”

“Does he know that?” Natasha asked.

“We never talked about marriage,” Steve looked at her. “And he got really upset when Ava threw a major tantrum the other day. She told the kids at school that I was her dad. I tried to talk with Bucky about it, but he seemed to just shut me out and change the subject in the end.”

Taking a deep breath, Nat looked at Steve and shook her head softly, looking thoughtful. “I love Bucky . . . but that boy has some major abandonment issues, Steve. As for the dad thing . . . you know how he is - - something that hits too close to the heart, he just shuts down and builds up those walls so he doesn’t get hurt.”

“I know, and I don’t know how to get through them. I’ve been trying. But every time I turn around, I seem to say or do something wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’ve gotta walk on eggshells or upset him.”

“Is he still on that anxiety medication?” Natasha tapped a fingernail to her lips, eyes narrowing in thought.

“He stopped taking it about three months ago,” Steve sighed. “Bruce said he might never come off it, and he determined he would, since he felt so much better.”

“It’s only a matter of time before he starts clawing that arm up again, Steve. You need to convince him to get back on it.”

“I know . . .” Steve sighed and looked miserable. “That’s why I’m trying so hard to figure this out. But everything I do makes it worse, Nat . . . I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me. I’m terrified he’ll hurt himself!”

Shaking her head, Nat looked back up at Steve.

“Just before you got here,” Steve said softly, miserably, “he told me to go back to my patient . . .”

“He told you? Or did he suggest it off-handedly? There’s a big difference between the two.”

Shaking his head, unsure of anything any more, Steve sighed. “I don’t know, Nat. I asked if he was sure, and he said to go.”

“You need to reassure him that you’re not going anywhere, Steve. It almost sounds like he’s readying himself for you leaving,” Natasha mused softly.

“I tell him all the time how much I love him, Nat.” Steve whimpered softly. “Why would I leave? I don’t want to leave . . . ever.”

“There’s a difference to him. You can still love him and leave. Steve, I know it was a long time ago - - but what you did in high school is still there. He forgave you, sure . . . but he won’t forget it.”

“I’ll never live that down? I fucked up everything . . .” Steve slid down to sit on the floor, head in his hands. “I don’t deserve him, Nat. Maybe he shouldn’t have forgiven me. I just keep messing things up.”

Kneeling down to get on Steve’s level, Nat patted his knee reassuringly,“He did forgive you and neither of you can change that.”

“I don’t want to change his forgiveness, Nat. I’m selfish. I want him,” he closed his eyes, letting his head thump against the hall wall, “I _need_ him, Nat.”

“And he needs you,” she offered gently, “honestly, without you here . . . I’m not sure he’d even be here anymore, Steve.”

Steve opened his eyes and looked shocked. “You . . . think he’s suicidal?” Horror and worry filled his voice.

She seemed to ponder this statement for a few moments, “no . . . but without you - - he’d still be that terrified young man that was drowning and too proud to ask for help. Without you . . . he would have gone under.”

“I love him so much, Nat . . . but I don’t know how to help him. He . . .” Steve looked at her, “he’s afraid I’m going to leave him?”

“He hasn’t told me that - - but looking at him today . . . yeah, I’d say that.” Nat gave Steve’s knee a comforting squeeze.

“And . . . “ Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “he knows I’m a Catholic . . .” He seemed to be thinking hard about something.

“Yeah, I’m not sure getting married in your childhood church is gonna happen,” Nat offered with a playful smirk.

Steve laughed softly, “no, Nat, Bucky knows. I don’t believe in divorce.” He smiled wider. “If I marry, it’ll be forever.”

“Looks like someone may be shopping for a ring,” Nat smiled.

“Definitely,” Steve smiled happily at the sudden idea of proposing to Bucky, marrying him, being together always.

“Do me a favor, though?” Nat asked, standing up, offering her hand to Steve to help him get to his feet.

He let her help him to his feet. “What?” he asked.

“Try to get him back on his medication . . . this ordeal would be stressful for anyone.”

“Yeah, I’ll work on that,” Steve smiled his sunny smile at Nat. “So . . . he’s not hungry, he said so. Do I still bring him food, or believe that he means it?” Steve looked to her for genuine advice.

“Well has he eaten anything today?”

“Not that I know of.” Steve responded. “But I was called away before we could eat breakfast, so he might have eaten then. I kind of doubt it, though.”

“Bring him some soup . . . easy on the stomach but will at least give him some nourishment. The last thing we need is him passing out because he refuses to eat.” Nat said with a firm nod.

Nodding, Steve said, “Thanks, Nat. I’ll get it as soon as I check on them again.”

Nodding, Nat said softly, “tell him to take as much time as he needs . . . kid has like five weeks of vacation time. I don’t think he’s taken a day off in five years.”

Nodding, Steve moved towards the door. “Okay,” he smiled.

Hearing the door open again, Ava turned around and put her finger to lips, “ssshhh! They’re sleeping.” She whispered, motioning to Bucky and Kevin again.

Steve froze and nodded, his smile slipping. Obviously, he was confident when talking with someone about taking care of things, but he was nervous when faced with the prospect of upsetting his boyfriend. “Okay, Ava, I’ll be right back. You wanna come with me or sit here?”

Ava looked back at the her uncle and Kevin, she carefully scrambled off the bed and tiptoed over to the door, “they’re sleeping, Steve. We should let them rest.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go arrange for some soup for your uncle, since he didn’t eat,” Steve took her hand and wrote a quick note on some paper on the table by the door. He then led the little girl down the hall.


	9. Matters Reach a Head

Having been moved into one of the small apartments, Bucky lounged on the small couch watching Ava and Steve playing a card game.

Kevin sat on the floor at Bucky’s feet, playing with a stuffed dog that Ava used to drag around everywhere at that age.

A soft knock filled the room and Bucky’s head snapped over to the noise.

Kevin looked up and asked, “go to room?” He sounded curious and a bit worried.

“No,” Steve reassured them. He rose and answered the door,”Yeah?”

Riley stood in the hall, carrying a tray with bowls of soup, “hey, Steve.”

“Oh, perfect,” Steve stepped into the hall quietly for a moment, holding the door shut behind him. “Riley, I need your help. Bucky went off his meds three months ago, and he’s been getting worse,” he spoke quickly as he took the tray carefully.

Riley furrowed his brows, “really? He was doing well?”

“Yeah, but Bruce mentioned keeping him on them, so Bucky stopped taking them,” the blond reported in a low voice.

“Well, how can I help?” Riley looked up at Steve.

“You’re the therapist that got him to start on them to begin with. You convinced him to listen to Bruce. Is there a way you can help me get him to listen to Bruce again?” Steve glanced to the door, “I mean being on a med his whole life isn’t a bad thing, right?”

“Of course not, he suffers from some pretty strong anxiety and when he’s off his meds is prone to panic attacks. I - - I can try to convince him again, but the only way to force him to take them is to admit him and I know you don’t wanna do that.” Riley stated softly.

Steve nodded. “Let me try first, but I’ll let you know if I need the backup?” he asked.

Nodding firmly, Riley offered Steve a reassuring smile, “good luck, hopefully you won’t need me.”

Nodding, Steve offered Riley a smile then turned back to the apartment door, fumbling it open and smiling at Bucky and the kids. “I’ve brought soup.”

Looking at Steve from where he still sat on the couch, Bucky nodded and stood up to shut the door behind Steve. “Smells good,” the brunet said with a small smile.

Steve smiled back and set the tray on the table. “Yeah, Riley dropped it off on his rounds.” Steve began moving the bowls and spoons to the table.

“How’s he doing? Ya were out there for a bit,” Bucky said as he sat down on the couch.

“Seems to be okay,” Steve offered a smile, looking a bit worried. “I actually asked his opinion on something.” Steve took a breath. He didn’t lie to his boyfriend, ever, so he offered, “I was asking if you could wind up with bad side effects from stopping the med so abruptly instead of having Bruce wean you off. I was worried, because you seem anxious again. I know it’s a great responsibility with both kids, but I was worried I might have asked you to take on too much?” Steve bit his lip. This hadn’t been how he wanted to approach this, but it had come out anyway.

Bucky flushed and shook his head, “I can handle it, Steve . . . I - - I already told you that.”

Steve nodded, backing off, laying down the last spoon. “Okay, Buck, I was just worried.”

Standing again, Bucky walked into the small kitchen, mumbling under his breath. Opening the fridge he pulled out the juice and poured it into two glasses. Capping one with a lid, Bucky walked back over to the main area and handed the open glass to Ava and the sippy cup to Kevin. 

The little boy climbed up onto his chair, arm still on a board due to his heparin-line, and smiled up at Bucky. He eyed the bowls with a puzzled frown.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Bucky asked softly, sitting down next to the boy.

Kevin brought his sippy cup to his lips and merely took a slow suck, not answering.

Steve set some bread, butter, and crackers on the table then sat down. “Something wrong?” he looked worried.

Looking between the boy and the bowl, Bucky tried to piece together what was wrong.

The boy merely continued drinking his juice, watching from one face the the other, making no move for and even showing no interest in the soup.

Bucky pulled his own bowl closer and brought a spoonful to his lips, making sure Kevin could see him eat it. “It’s yummy, Kevin.”

Kevin watched, eyes fixed on the spoon, but made no move. He merely sat quiet and watchful, drinking his juice until it was empty and he was sucking air.

Steve took the cup gently and the boy let him have it. “Maybe he doesn’t like soup, Bucky?”

“It’s the bowls . . .” Bucky muttered softly.

“Bowls?” Steve frowned and looked down at the food bowls.

“I said _‘no bowls’_ remember?” Bucky looked over at Steve.

He shook his head. “Did you say that at lunch? Because I wasn’t there for lunch, Buck,” The man stood and walked to a cabinet, opening it and taking out a mug. He walked back over and poured some of the soup in the mug then passed it over to Bucky. “Try feeding him from that?”

Grabbing his spoon, Bucky scooped up a small bit and offered it to Kevin, “wanna try it? It’s real good.”

The boy opened his mouth eagerly, his small tummy rumbling as the smell of the soup hit his nose.

Smiling, Bucky fed the boy the spoonful. Kevin ate what he was offered happily.

Steve smiled at the sight and nodded, scooping up the sippy cup to refill it. He put it near Kevin but not close enough to distract the boy. He needed nourishment, not more juice. Glancing over at Ava, Steve smiled, “must feel good being able to feed yourself, huh, Pumpkin?”

Ava’s eyes were fixated on her uncle and Kevin, eying them with a look of anger and jealousy. Forcing her eyes away, she began to eat her soup, “yeah.”

“I mean, being fed like a baby is one thing, but being a big kid means Uncle Bucky can take you on roller coasters this summer. I’m no good on coasters, so I’ll have to sit on the bench, but you could go with him.” Steve began to eat, talking as if he were just randomly picking a subject.

“Are we going to Coney Island this summer?” Ava instantly perked up and looked up at Steve with a small smile.

Steve looked over at Bucky with a smile. “Maybe, Ava,” he answered the little girl. “Or water slides. Uncle Bucky loves water slides.”

Bucky scowled softly as he fed Kevin another bite, Ava exclaiming happily, “I love water slides!”

“So do I,” Steve confirmed, catching Bucky’s look and realizing too late he wouldn’t want to strip down. “Maybe we can make a deal? Uncle Bucky takes you on roller coasters and I take you on water slides?” He didn’t much like heights, but Steve would do it for Ava and Bucky.

“Okay!” Ava seemed very content with that agreement.

The tall blond looked over at his boyfriend, hoping he hadn’t overstepped the bounds. After all, it was Bucky’s vacation. He offered a hopeful smile at the brunet.

Continuing to feed Kevin, Bucky didn’t return Steve’s smile, instead keeping focused on the little boy. He had never been the one to take Ava swimming, hell, Bucky didn’t even own a pair of swimming trunks. But hearing how inadequate he was made his stomach lurch again. He didn’t need to be reminded how he couldn’t do everything with his niece, regardless of his want to do so.

Kevin’s hand touched Bucky’s and the boy grinned up at the man. “My Bucky?”

Smiling softly, Bucky nodded and said, “yeah, buddy, I’m your Bucky.”

“Done?” he asked happily.

Nodding, Bucky set down the spoon and was happy to see that Kevin had eaten most of it. The brunet smiled, “ya did good.”

“You now?” Kevin touched Bucky’s arm.

Bucky looked down at the soup in his bowl and his stomach heaved, he had been slightly hungry . . . but the talk of the water park had made him lose his appetite. He didn’t want Kevin to get upset again, though . . . the last time Bucky hadn’t drank the juice and the boy had a seizure. Slowly, the brunet brought a small spoonful to his lips.

Steve watched Bucky intently, noting the pallor and the look. “Bucky, don’t eat if you’re not well,” he finally said. The blond stood and scooped the little boy up, careful of his arm, and took the juice. “You don’t have to force yourself to eat anything.” He stepped into the room for the kids, sighing. He’d tried to get something Bucky could eat, and the brunet couldn’t even hold that down, probably. Steve began getting Kevin ready for bed.

At the small amount of food, Bucky let the spoon drop back into the bowl and bolted into the bathroom. Managing to shut the door before kneeling in front of the toilet, Bucky threw up, however most of it was bile; causing the man to dry heave painfully.

“Steve!” Ava called out, “Uncle Bucky is sick.”

“Can you watch Kevin, Pumpkin?” Steve came out of the bedroom, heading directly for the bathroom. “He’s on the bed.”

“Okay,” Ava nodded and slipped out of the chair, heading into the bedroom.

Steve tried the door, relieved to find it was unlocked. He opened the door and slid to his knees, wrapping his arms around Bucky, holding his hair out of the way, the other arm supporting the man.

Another heave wracked his body and Bucky groaned loudly, “I’m sorry . . .”

Steve merely held the other man, whispering to him, “No, baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the soup.” He held the man carefully, strong arm supporting as much weight as Bucky would let him.

Gagging again, Bucky shook his head, “you guys needed to eat.” He leaned his body against Steve’s, “I’m the wreck.”

“No, Bucky, you’re stressed,” Steve frowned, holding his lover to him. “I’m worried about you getting sick again. I still remember how sick you got . . .” he fell silent, feeling he was going to make things worse. “I worry about you, Bucky. I love you.”

Body trembling slightly from the painful retching, Bucky sighed, “I love you, too. Maybe - - maybe I should go back on my meds?”

Carefully, not wanting to sound too eager and scare Bucky, Steve breathed out. “Maybe for a bit? See if it helps? We can make long term decisions later?” He stroked Bucky’s hair with his free hand.

“I can’t take care of the kids if I’m getting sick - - it was one thing when it was just you and I . . . but I can’t afford to have a panic attack.” Bucky murmured, feeling physically miserable.

Nodding, Steve kissed his forehead. “I know, baby. It’s scary being on meds. I’m still on them, too. If I stop, I’ll get depressed . . .” He sighed, “so I know, Bucky, I know what you mean. I hate the meds, but I want to be here for you and Ava . . . and Kevin.”

Slowly pulling away from Steve, Bucky flushed the toilet and shakily stood up, using the counter to help him stand.

Steve rose with his boyfriend and offered him the toothbrush and a tumbler of water. “If you don’t feel well, don’t force yourself to eat, Bucky, please? It makes you sicker and then I feel like you’re gonna wind up passed out on the floor or something.”

Nodding, taking the toothbrush with a small smile, Bucky said, “can - - can you get the kids to bed?”

“Yes,” Steve breathed and kissed Bucky’s forehead. “I’ll be back.” He hurried out the door with a grin for Ava. “He’s feeling better now. Needs rest. Want to wear your pony nightgown or your pokemon sleepers?” He reached for Kevin’s pull ups. “Thanks for watching Kevin, Ava, Pumpkin. You did real good,” he smiled at her.

“Is Uncle Bucky sad again?” Ava asked carefully.

Steve shook his head. “Actually, he’s worried. Uncle Bucky’s worried about you and Kevin and me and lots of things. That’s what’s making him feel sick.”

“Oh,” Ava pulled out her nightgown and looked up at Steve with a frown, “why is he so worried? The bad man isn’t back is he?”

“Nope, the bad man’s still in jail, Ava. Remember, we promised to tell you if he ever got out, right?” Steve tugged her hair from the inside of her nightgown and began brushing it. Kevin seemed content to just lie there in his pull up and watch them. “Uncle Bucky is worried about the bad person who hurt Kevin. And he’s worried about the new room being done right. He’s worried about the store and everyone there. He worries that we’ll get sick or hurt.” He began to braid her hair. “Uncle Bucky has a type of sickness called Anxiety Disorder. It means he worries too much. Just like I have Depression, which means I get sad a lot.”

“But you take medicine to make you better . . . I’ve seen it - - why doesn’t Uncle Bucky take medicine?” Ava asked.

Steve nodded. “Yes, we do. But you know how when you feel sick, then you have tylenol and feel better for awhile? So you think you’re all better? Well, Uncle Bucky did that. He made a mistake and thought he was all better. But he’s realizing that sometimes you’ve gotta take medicine longer, even if you think you’re better.”

“Is he gonna get better, Steve?” Ava questioned, her tone worried.

“Well, some sickness can get better and some can’t. But I’m not a doctor, so I don’t know. I can tell you that mine won’t get better, so I’ll always be on medicine.” He sighed and tied off her braid then began dressing the happy little boy, who tried to help only succeeding in making it take longer. “But I thought about it hard.”

Ava crawled onto her twin bed and got under the covers.

“I’ve decided that I’d rather take medicine every day than to feel sad all the time. Now it’s up to Uncle Bucky to make his own choices, because he’s an adult . . . but he said he’s like to see if the medicine helps again,” Steve leaned over and kissed Ava then finally gave up on a shirt for the little boy, leaving Kevin in pull up and sleep pants.

“I hope the medicine makes him feel better,” Ava said, yawning.

Steve nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure Uncle Bucky sees Doctor Bruce to ask about it before just starting. Remember what we said? Always ask a doctor before starting medicine.”

“Always ask a doctor,” Ava nodded, her eyes slipping shut.

Kissing both kids again, Steve walked out, leaving the door slightly open. He peeked back into the bathroom. “Bucky?”

“In here,” Bucky’s voice called from the second bedroom.

Smiling, Steve brushed his teeth real quick then walked to the other bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, he smiled at his lover. “Hey?”

Bucky looked over from where he lay on the bed, still shaking slightly from the violent retching. “Hey,” he murmured softly.

The blond walked in and sank on the edge of the bed, still dressed in his street clothes. “Finally time alone, and you’re too tired to wanna cuddle?” He asked gently.

“I can cuddle . . . ain’t falling asleep anytime soon,” Bucky admitted; his body shuddered, making him groan softly.

Nodding, Steve stood and unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off over his shoulders and tossing it to a chair. He slid out of his trousers and tossed them to join the shirt. In only his drawers, Steve slipped in the bed next to his boyfriend and reached for him. “Let me warm you?”

Shifting so that his head lay on Steve’s firm chest, Bucky sighed, “kids in bed?”

“Ava’s sound asleep and Kevin was watching a moth on the window.” Steve answered and gently kissed Bucky’s neck. “I love you, Sweetheart.”

“Even if I’m crazy?” Bucky mumbled.

“I love every part of you, Bucky, and you aren’t any crazier than I am. Remember? If I don’t take my meds, I want to throw myself . . .” Steve sealed his lips, eyes widening. He’d never actually told Bucky just how bad the depression would get.

Propping himself up, Bucky looked up at Steve with a small frown, “you get suicidal?”

Sighing, Steve nodded, eyes miserable. He looked down at the blanket. “I have for years, Buck . . . since . . . . well, maybe the first year of college . . .”

“Oh,” Bucky said softly, his stomach heaving again. Steve became suicidal after he told him he loved him. The brunet lurched off the bed again and stumbled back into the bathroom, this time not closing the door. He knew he didn’t have anything in his stomach.

“Buck?” Steve lunged after the other man grabbing him supportively and pulling his hair from his face. “What the hell?”

Eyes burning with tears, Bucky heaved again, of course nothing came out.

“Buck, calm down, baby. Come on. I’m okay now. I promise. I’m taking my meds every day.” Steve held him, desperate to fix whatever he’d done to make Bucky sick this time. “I promise. I’m not gonna kill myself! I’ve got too much to live for. I’ve got you and the kids . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky groaned out between dry heaves.

“Sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong, Buck,” Steve held him, petting his hair.

Leaning his forehead against the cool porcelain, Bucky’s body shook violently, his stomach clenched painfully tight. He’d only eaten one small meal in two days. His vision spotted and he swayed slightly before it cleared and he righted himself.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice came out worried, his arms supporting his lover. “Do you need me to get Bruce?”

Bucky groaned and shook his head, trying to stand up but his knees buckled and he began to fall.

The blond pulled Bucky against his sturdy frame. He slid an arm under Bucky’s knees and held him securely around the shoulders and back with the other. Standing, Steve lifted his lover and carried him back to the bedroom, laying the brunet on the bed. “Bucky, Sweetheart?” He brushed Bucky’s long hair from his face, studying him with worried blue eyes.

Stomach tightening more, Bucky whimpered and curled in on himself. “Hurts . . .”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Steve stood. “You stay right there.” Steve went into the kids’ room, ignoring the fact that he was only in boxers. “Ava? Ava, baby, you need to watch Uncle Bucky while I get help. He’s sick.”

Ava slowly rose out of bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“I’m going to get Bruce, but I need you to sit with your uncle so he doesn’t get worse, okay? If he starts choking, you need to start screaming.” Steve pulled the blanket back and scooped her up to carry to Bucky’s side. “Here, watch him, baby,” he said absently and hurried into the hall, flagging down the first passing staff member.

Finally, he brought back Riley who sank onto the side of Bucky’s bed, opposite Ava, and began starting in IV on the man.

Sweat caused his long brown hair to stick to his face; Bucky whimpered softly as another painful cramp tightened his abdomen.

The therapist spoke very quietly the entire time, starting a second IV, as well, and running saline through one and actually IV food through another. Slowly, he balanced the IV’s and monitored Bucky’s vital signs, working steadily, calmly. Finally, in a soft voice, Riley said, “Bucky? Would you like anti-nausea medicine?”

Almost as if on cue, Bucky leaned over the edge of the bed and retched again, bile mixed with a little blood.

Riley seemed to have been prepared because he thrust a bowl under Bucky’s face. “Hold this, Steve. Ava? How’re you doing, honey?” Riley measured out the dose of medicine carefully and administered it into the saline solution, followed by a low dose of the anti anxiety medicine. He was thankful that in the last five years he’d finished getting his full registered nursing license.

“Is Uncle Bucky gonna be okay?” Ava asked, eyeing her uncle with wide eyes.

“Sure is,” Riley smiled for her. “This is salt water so we can keep him with liquids and salt. This is food. This needle was to stop him feeling like he wants to throw up and the other one is to make him stop worrying for a while.” He checked Bucky’s vitals again and continued to work with the IV’s. “Can you think of anything else he might need or want?”

Ava scooted closer to her uncle, whose eyes were half-lidded and skin clammy; she brushed his hair out of his face. Her eyes brimmed with tears; she’d never seen her uncle like this before.

“I have an idea,” Riley said softly. “Why don’t you and Steve go get Kevin. And you can get your brush. Then you come in here and brush his hair and braid it like yours so it doesn’t tangle, right?”

Steve nodded, offering a hand to Ava. “You’ve been so good, Ava, taking care of your uncle like a big girl. Let’s go get your brush and you can make him comfortable.”

Nodding, Ava sniffled and took Steve’s hand, looking at Bucky from over her shoulder. She let the blond lead her away.

While the pair were elsewise engaged, Riley quickly removed Bucky’s pants and underwear. He placed a catheter in Bucky so he could measure the output, covering him with the sheet before the others could return. “Sorry, Buck, but it’s required if you're on liquid food.” He hung the bag on the rung at the bottom of the bed and checked the IVs again.

“Steve?” Bucky moaned softly.

Luckily, Steve had returned by the time Bucky spoke up. The blond carried the sleeping boy into the room and settled Kevin on a chair. He moved to the bed. “Right here, Sweetheart. I’m here.”

Ava stood at the end of the bed, clutching her brush tightly, her eyes wide and scared.

Riley signaled her over to where he sat. “Can you be careful and climb up behind him? You can put his head on your lap and brush his hair.” The nurse aided the girl in climbing into the bed.

Ava, with Riley’s assistance, sat under her uncle and very carefully began brushing his hair. She looked horrified.

With a nod, Riley said, “you see that bag by the bed, Ava? That’s so he doesn’t have to get up to pee. That way he gets his strength back and doesn’t fall down. If you’re in here, and that bag get’s half full, you come get someone, okay?” Riley was a firm believer in making medicine less scary to children by explaining it and letting them feel they could help.

“Okay,” Ava nodded, her lip trembling.

“Now, this is because your uncle’s been silly and hasn’t been eating. Coffee is not a food group,” Riley admonished. “And when your stomach is without food for awhile, it gets sick on anything you put inside.” He smiled at the little girl. “So, we took over feeding him so his stomach doesn’t get sick. Once he’s got enough food in him, we’ll take the tubes out and he can eat real food, like jello and juice.”

Gently, Ava began to braid Bucky’s hair; Natasha had been teaching her how, so the braid didn’t come out as a tangled mess.

“Now, this doesn’t mean we’re admitting you to the hospital, Bucky. This is what we call home health care. We take care of you in the apartment for a few days to give you a chance to stabilize.” Riley seemed satisfied at last with the IVs and began charting things quickly in the low light of the room.

Bucky didn’t make any acknowledgment that he heard Riley.

Apparently that wasn’t good enough for Riley this time. He frowned. “Bucky, if you are awake, you will answer me. If I don't get answers, I’m forced to recommend a psych eval.”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled.

“Thank you, Buck,” Riley accepted the mumble. “You should be drifting off soon but I didn’t give you any drugs for that. It’s just your body relaxing after all the stress. I want you to sleep yourself out. Your family has just been put on assisted living, meaning we’ll be coming in and tending the kids while you and Steve tend to your health. It’s the same thing Steve does when he volunteers to help in the clinic.”

Ava finished with the braid, tying it off with a hair tie.

Steve spoke up, leaning over to kiss Bucky’s forehead, “We all live in here as a family, Buck, but we get a housekeeper and babysitter while we want or need one, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky answered, nearly incoherent.

“Okay, you can go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be keeping an eye on things tonight. Ava? If you can carefully move from under your uncle, I think we can pile some pillows and quilts between the bed and wall for you to sleep on?”

“I don’t wanna leave him,” Ava’s lip trembled as she spoke.

“I’m not asking you to leave him. I’m asking you to sleep on the floor, so if you move in your sleep you don’t hit one of the IVs, okay?” Riley smiled gently at her.

Nodding, Ava slipped slowly from under Bucky, letting his head fall back on the pillows gently.

Steve went off to get a pile of bedding for Ava and Kevin to sleep on, tucking it out of the way between bed and wall, moving the bed out so they could do this. Thus, Bucky’s bags and part of the bed was exposed while the kids were out of the way behind the bed. Finally, once the kids were tucked in, Steve lay down carefully next to his lover, between Bucky and the place where the kids lay. Riley seemed content in a chair.


	10. Road to Recovery

Bucky slowly woke up, a warm pressure on his side; he tried to move his arm but hissed softly when something tugged painfully. Opening his eyes, Bucky looked down at his arm and saw multiple IV’s. _What happened?_

Panicking slightly, Bucky tried to sit up, all he could remember was trying to eat some soup . . . and then feeling really nauseous.

Steve muttered restlessly in his sleep, having only drifted off in the last hour or so. He opened his eyes to glance over at his lover, as he’d been doing all night, then blinked at the change in Bucky. Finally it sank in that his lover was awake. “Buck?” Steve’s voice rasped from sleep.

“What happened?” Bucky looked down at Steve with wide eyes, “we were eating soup?”

“And you threw up at the scent,” Steve supplied. “We went to bed and were talking about restarting your med, then you got really sick again. I got Riley who’s feeding you through the IV.” The blond sighed. “He said if it’d gone longer, you’d have been on a tube instead.”

The nurse opened his eyes from his light drowse, instinctively checked all tubes then smiled softly at Bucky. “A bit overwhelming, huh?”

“I don’t remember?” Bucky breathed, eyes looking down at his arm again.

“Didn’t think you would.” Riley stood and stretched. “Steve was afraid when you wouldn’t stop heaving. Base on what he’s told me, you haven’t been feeling up to eating. I took it upon myself to give you a little IV Ensure and Pedialyte.”

With his free hand, Bucky moved to run his fingers through his hair, stopping when he felt the intricate braid.

“Ava braided your hair,” Steve told him, pride in his voice. “She was so gentle with you last night.”

“She - - saw that?” Bucky looked over at Steve.

“Yeah, Bucky, and Riley explained everything as he worked on you.” Steve looked troubled but nodded.

“All except the most private part,” Riley confirmed. “I believe in kids being taught so they aren’t as scared. She’s on the floor by the wall with Kevin.” Riley gestured towards the bundled kids.

Bucky felt mortified that both children saw him in such rough shape; he couldn’t remember much of anything . . . but he knew it must have been pretty bad.

The nurse said, “since you can’t remember, I’ll tell you again. You are going to be on assisted living here. Not like outside the clinic, in here it means you get a housekeeper and babysitter while Steve works on getting you healthy. You’ll be on these IVs for the day and tonight I’ll re-evaluate. If you’re okay, I’ll remove the food and then tomorrow the catheter and saline. You haven’t got a choice. I’ve put you back on low dose anti-anxiety meds until you stabilize. Then you can discuss with Bruce your further treatment.” The short blond nurse offered a sympathetic smile for Bucky. “And Ava has been an angel all night, taking care of you. She barely slept.”

Ava stirred and looked up at Bucky from where she lay on the floor; seeing her uncle awake, she scrambled to her feet, “Uncle Bucky!”

Smiling for the little girl, the nurse said “see, I told you that you were doing good work! I think Ava’s got a career as a nurse or even a doctor.”

Smiling softly at Ava, Bucky said, “hey, Squirt. Thank you for taking care of me.”

Leaning over to kiss her uncle on the cheek, Ava smiled back, “Riley says I did good.”

“Everyone needs help sometime, right, Ava?” Steve asked softly.

“Right,” she said firmly.

Bucky looked over at Steve, grey eyes brimming with tears and he ducked his head, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He’d let his anxiety get so bad that he almost passed out; he felt completely ashamed of himself.

Steve reached over and stroke’s Bucky’s face. “You doing okay this morning? Riley gave you anti-nausea meds last night to get rid of the sickness. Is it still working or do you need more?” Steve reached for Bucky’s left hand, his free hand.

Letting out a quiet sob, Bucky shook his head and looked down at his lap. He couldn’t stop - - even with Ava there. He’d never let the little girl see him break down before.

“If you still feel sick, you should take the medicine, Bucky, so you can get better,” Steve told him softly. He stroked Bucky’s face again.

“Don’t cry, Uncle Bucky . . . Riley is gonna help you feel better,” Ava reassured, which only made Bucky sob again.

Riley nodded. “And what did I tell you about crying, Ava? That we all wanna cry when we’re sick, right?” He smiled and gestured to the little girl. “Can you get Kevin out from that nest you kids made? He’ll need his diaper changed.”

Ava turned to shake the little boy awake.

“It’s a pull up,” Steve corrected slowly, flushing in embarrassment on behalf of the little boy.

Kevin woke up and smiled wide. “Hello, my Ava,” he said softly then stood. His eyes widened at seeing Bucky. “My Bucky!” he crowed softly, not seeming to notice the difference in health the man took.

“Stevie . . .” Bucky said, so quietly only the blond would be able to hear. “I - - I need them out right now.”

With a nod, Steve scooped up Kevin without a word and gripped Ava’s hand firmly. He led her out and to their own room, leaving Bucky with Riley. He figured he’s sooth the children in the other room.

Bucky sagged in relief and wiped at his eyes furiously.

“Since they’re gone now, might as well give in and cry, Bucky,” Riley advised, offering a box of Kleenex.

As if he’d been waiting for permission, Bucky let out a ragged, wet sob which he promptly stifled with his shaking left hand. “I’m sorry,” he gasped.

Riley didn’t make Bucky let himself be heard, but he did encourage the actual tears. Sinking onto the chair, Riley placed a careful hand on Bucky’s knee and merely waited for the storm to pass. “Sorry for being human? Nope, don’t accept that apology,” Riley shot back.

“I’m we - - weak. Now - - now everyone knows . . .” Bucky hiccupped.

“Weak? Because you thought you were doing better and made a mistake? Hell, I don’t see PHD behind your name, yet, Bucky. You’re entitled to a few medical mistakes. That doesn’t make you weak.” Riley shook his head.

Bucky didn’t say anything else, simply he let his tears fall and waited for himself to calm down.

“Look, Bucky, it’s a big stereotype that we can’t have weak moments and tears and need others. I think it’s healthier to show the kids that everyone feels that way once in awhile, and that the way to get through it is to help each other. That we’re strong on our own but stronger together.” Riley leaned closer. “Isn’t that a good lesson for your children?”

Nodding once, Bucky wiped at his cheeks again.

“Then don’t apologize for being human and needing others. Don’t act ashamed for being you. Let them see you need them and they need you.” Riley smiled softly. “After all, if you hide it now, then those kids are going to go through this same thing when they’re grown and sick in front of kids of their own.” The man stood and checked the bags, emptying the urine bag and washing his hands.

Bucky looked down at his hands, he understood Riley’s words and honestly agreed with him . . . but it was hard to put into action.

“Promise me to at least try to work on it?” Riley smiled at the man.

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly and swallowed, wincing slightly, “it feels like I swallowed nails?” 

“You were heaving half the night,” Riley responded. “But I can give you something we give mothers in labor.” He grinned and moved to his medicine bag, pulling out a packed of sticks that had been dipped in something lemony. “Try these. They help get the saliva flowing without upsetting the stomach.”

Bucky looked slightly apprehensive as he took the offered stick.

With a laugh, Riley offered them again. “Look, mommas having kids get nausea big time. Can you imagine trying to deal with that and delivery? These are so they don’t stay nauseous, and it moistens the throat.” He nodded encouragingly. “It’s called a lemon swab, Bucky.”

Putting it in his mouth, Bucky shuddered slightly at the sour taste.

“Kind of like a lemon candy without the worry of all that sugar,” Riley commented.

“How was Steve?” Bucky asked cautiously, the lemon swab already working wonders.

“Steve is worried about you, but amazingly? Holding real strong and watching out for the kids. He’s been watching you carefully, too.” Riley laughed softly. “Had Ava watch you while he came to get me last night. He wants to know how to treat everything, take care of the IVs and everything.” The nurse shook his head. “Devoted a good word for you?”

“That’s Steve alright,” Bucky said softly, his lips turning up in a small smile. “Do - - do you think you could go get him?”

Nodding, the nurse left the room. He smiled as he walked in with the children. “He’s feeling better for now. Wants Steve, so I get to tend Kevin and need Ava’s help,” Riley said.

Looking over at Ava, Steve asked, “is it okay?”

“Yeah, you go check on Uncle Bucky,” Ava said faintly, it was obvious she was still concerned for her uncle.

Nodding, Steve kissed her and hurried to his lover’s bedside, leaving Riley to keep the kids calm.

“Bucky?” Steve opened the door, looking in.

Looking up at Steve, Bucky’s eyes filled with tears again and he said, “I - - I didn’t mean to let it get so bad again, Steve . . . I promise.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Steve slid onto the bed and stroked Bucky’s hair. “The meds made you feel better, and you did what most everyone does. You took yourself off.” Steve looked worried.

“I - - I didn’t mean to scare you or the kids . . . I just wasn’t hungry . . .” Bucky felt miserable and his throat constricted with emotion.

“I know, Sweetheart,” Steve nodded, stroking, leaning over to kiss Bucky’s forehead. “Like always, if you feel anxious, you stop eating so you don’t throw up. You’ve done that your whole life.” He kissed again.

Bucky looked up at Steve, his eyes wide with shame and a little fear, “you’ll stay with me today?” His voice came out so small, so meek.

Steve nodded. “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else. And if you think Tony’ll try to pull me away, you’re wrong,” he stroked Bucky’s hair. “It’s policy that volunteers are relieved of duty if their own health or family needs attention. So, no fear. He can’t drag me away no matter how much guilt he wants to throw at me.” Steve kissed Bucky’s temple gently.

Nodding, Bucky bit his lip and look down again, “I’m sorry I’m taking you away from your case . . . you seemed excited about it yesterday.”

Steve nuzzled Bucky’s neck suddenly. “I love _you_ , not my caseload, Bucky. I’ll always choose you.” He stroked the other man’s hair with a trembling hand.

“I love you, Stevie,” Bucky whimpered leaning into Steve’s touch. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Good, then we’re in total love with each other and have no plans other than staying wrapped up with one another today, right?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded and scooted over a bit to allow more room for Steve on the bed. He patted the spot, “come cuddle?”

“Definitely,” Steve slid close and pulled Bucky carefully against him. He nuzzled his lover’s neck and kissed the shoulder joint. “I love cuddling with you, Sweetheart,” he breathed.

Humming contentedly, Bucky let his eyes close again, his body still feeling wrecked and exhausted from the night before, snuggling close to Steve’s side.

*************

The next morning, after checking all of Bucky’s vitals, Riley seemed content with the recovery and suggested the family go home to get some more rest. The nurse happily disconnected Bucky from his remaining IV tube.

Bruce knocked and stepped into the small apartment with a smile. “Well, all his tests came back fine,” he began without an opener. “Your Kevin may have child epilepsy, but we can’t confirm that until he has more seizures, so, let me give you some protocol for that, okay?”

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Bucky nodded slowly and said, “please? I’d like to know how to handle things if it happens again . . . I was lucky that Mr. Odinson was there.”

Nodding, Bruce walked over and offered some written material to Bucky as well as a computer CD. “This will help you understand symptoms and such. Also, this disc will show you what to do for him, exposing you to several types of seizures. If he begins just staring into space, unresponsive, then gets tired and groggy afterwards, that’s a seizure, believe it or not. They don’t always involve shaking.”

Taking the materials with a grateful nod, Bucky shakily rose to his feet, still a little weak but on the mend.

Steve picked up Kevin, watching as Riley moved on to taking out the boy’s IV. He glanced over to his boyfriend and offered a smile. “We can do this, right, Buck?”

Clearing his throat, Bucky nodded and carefully walked over where the duffel bag sat next to the wall. He put the things Bruce had given him into the bag before picking it up and slinging it over one shoulder.

Bruce smiled and turned to Ava with a wink. “You can help with your new brother, right, Ava? He’s counting on a good big sister right now.”

Softly, Steve asked, “Ava, did you want to carry the bag for Uncle Bucky, Pumpkin? Give him a chance to regain his legs after being in bed so long?”

Bounding over to her uncle, Ava grabbed the bag, carefully slipping it off Bucky’s shoulders, who seemed to scowl softly in return but didn’t stop the little girl. She looked over at Bruce and Steve with a proud smile.

With a nod, Bruce turned to Bucky once more. “We won’t be assigning him medicine unless he has more seizures, and he’ll need to have them a certain distance apart to qualify. Keep track of anything odd, and don’t hesitate to call me.”

Nodding again, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and said, “of course, gonna put you on speed dial, Doc.” The brunet teased softly, but the action had already been done earlier that morning.

“I’m not already?” Bruce joked with a gentle smile. “Ah, what I have to do to get put on someone’s favorites list.” The man patted Kevin’s hair then Ava’s. “Well, family, take care and don’t be shy. Visits are permitted even without needing an IV.”

Ava took Bucky’s hand, but she turned to look at Steve, “are we going home now?”

“Sure are, Pumpkin. We have to make sure the contractors didn’t put holes in the wrong walls.” He smiled at her. Steve opened the door, allowing Bucky to walk through first. The doctor and nurse would remain behind to finish charting and clearing medical equipment before the apartment was cleaned for a new resident.

Walking down the hall with slightly trembling legs, Bucky gripped Ava’s hand, and he hadn’t been paying attention where he was going, because he nearly walked straight into a red-haired woman.

“Whoa, tiger,” an amused woman’s voice said, gentle, firm hands reaching out to balance the man. She was lovely, trim and well put together in a nice suit, strawberry hair done up, makeup in place. She was shorter than him, but seemed to exude an aura of being able to take on the world.

Stumbling back, Bucky immediately apologized, “I’m sorry! Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked, catching up, arms still full of six year old. He smiled at seeing the woman. “Pepper! Bucky, this is Pepper. Pepper, my boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.” Steve’s voice was very welcoming.

Looking at the woman with wide eyes, Bucky stuttered, “this - - this is Pepper?” He looked at her closer and felt instantly inadequate. She seemed to radiate strength and poise, and here Bucky was barely able to walk in a straight line.

“Yes, infamous already I see,” Pepper smiled at him and offered her hand. “Steve talks about his family often. It’s a genuine pleasure to meet you at last.” Everything about her supported the idea that she was one of those high level bank executives, as reported in the recent news about the terroristic robberies. However, nothing about her present manner, her all-together appearance, screamed _‘one of a very few surviving victims’_ of said terror spree. This woman seemed to have her shit together, could probably even take over and control _Tony Stark’s_ chaotic life with her gentle control and charisma. Many men would probably fall for her welcoming smile.

“I - - I . . . it’s nice to finally meet you as well,” Bucky stammered, gripping her hand with his left, his right still holding Ava’s.

The woman didn’t even glance at the scarred limb, her eyes locked on Bucky’s as she firmly shook his hand, but not so tight she hurt him. “Well, you take care of my advocate, Bucky Barnes. He’s an important asset, you know.”

“Always,” Bucky snipped, dropping his hand.

Steve flushed lightly, smiling and ducking his head, not quite picking up on Bucky’s attitude. “Bucky’s been good to me forever, Pepper, ever since we were kids.”

She seemed to instantly pick up on Bucky’s terse attitude because she nodded. “Good. Well, I have a law meeting, so please don’t let me keep you gentlemen, and lady,” she glanced at Ava with her friendly smile.

Bucky nodded once and continued walking, not offering another word to the woman who’d managed to make him feel so small with a simple friendly smile and strong demeanor.

“He’s tired, still,” Steve excused the lack of goodbye and hurried to keep up with his lover, worried Bucky would over-extend himself. Kevin looked back over Steve’s shoulder and shoved two fingers in his mouth, grey eyes wide as he watched the woman.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it out of the clinic.

Kevin turned his wide eyes on Bucky and said, softly, “scary.”

“Yeah, hospitals can be a bit scary, huh? But usually they help you feel better,” Bucky gave the boy a small, forced smile, not wanting to scare him anymore with his honest opinion on hospitals.

Frowning softly for once, Kevin looked puzzled. “Lady ‘spital?”

Steve looked at the boy in his hands. “Wait, did you think the lady was scary?” He sounded troubled by the idea. “Pepper wouldn’t hurt you, Kevin.” Steve put his hand in the air to signal a cab.

Snorting softly, Bucky shook his head and then walked over to the curb where the cab that Steve flagged pulled up. He opened the back door and motioned for Ava to climb in, “c’mon, Squirt.”

Ava slid into the vehicle with a smile and crawled over to the other side; after buckling up she placed the duffel bag on her lap.

Steve leaned in to buckle Kevin in next to the others then climbed into the front to sit by the driver. He gave the address and watched the man plug it into his GPS. Buckling his belt, Steve didn’t even turn to look at the others as he watched every turn and move the cabby made on their way home.

Kevin looked up at Bucky and smiled. “Home, My Bucky? Go home?”

“Yeah, buddy, we’re going home,” Bucky answered with a small smile.

They got home in reasonable time and the site that greeted them was one to behold. A freestanding chain link fence stood around the perimeter of the property. Wall frames had already been erected to denote the new room. Thor stood watching something in the ground and Lucky seemed to be measuring something along one wall, were a window cut out had been made.

Sighing softly, Bucky opened the door and stepped out of the cab, helping Kevin and then Ava get out, with the duffel.

The boy grabbed Bucky’s hand and his eyes widened as he studied the changes wrought on the home. “Whoa!” He seemed suitably impressed.

Steve paid the drive and stepped from the cab. He smiled in relief. “They work fast, don’t they, Buck?” The cab pulled away.

“Yeah,”” Bucky muttered and then offered his other hand to Ava, who gripped it firmly, she watched the scene with wide, curious eyes.

The blond looked at his lover with worried blue eyes. “Hungry, Buck? Tired?”

Steve moved to the fence and Thor came trotting over to let them in, handing a slip of paper to Steve and smiling widely at the other three. “Welcome back to your home. Lucky assured me that it would be rude if I went in and started lunch, so there is no food ready.”

Bucky stepped into the front yard and led the children up the front steps and waited for Steve to come unlock the door, Bucky’s keys still inside.

With a thankful smile for the taller blond, Steve walked up the steps and unlocked the house. He took the duffel from Ava. “Hey, Ava, wanna go make sandwiches for everyone? Need help?”

“I can make peanut butter and jelly!” Ava offered happily, dropping her uncle’s hand and then running into the kitchen.

“Wash your hands first,” Steve called the reminder. He swung the little boy into his arms and smiled at Bucky. “Glad to be home?”

Looking at the crowded living room, boxes piled high everywhere, Bucky grimaced slightly. There was hardly any room to move.

Following the brunet’s look, Steve shook his head. “I’ll take care of those, Buck. Give me three hours and the place will look like it was never invaded at all,” he promised putting the boy down again. “Go play, Kevin.” Steve began rolling up the sleeves to his button-down shirt.

Kevin looked up at Steve then over at Bucky.

“Your coloring books are still on the table?” Bucky offered with a smile, looking down at the boy.

Smiling back, Kevin nodded. “Okay.” He headed into the dining room.

Sighing, Bucky turned and moved to help Steve with the boxes.

Steve frowned but didn’t stop Bucky, recalling how he’d been upset for _‘showing weakness.’_ Instead, he moved to work on the heavier stuff, deliberately leaving the non-furniture for Bucky to handle. “So, we get this furniture into the art room and the rest of the stuff into Ava’s?” He asked.

“Yeah, they said the addition would take about two weeks. I meant to look at the numbers before they started . . . but then - -” Bucky paused, stopping himself before he could mention the ordeal with the delivery man.

“Numbers? Measurements?” Steve frowned, puzzled, glancing over at Bucky. He began sliding the box for the boy’s railed-bed towards the steps.

“The bill? I don’t even know how much this whole thing is going to cost,” Bucky lifted a box of blocks and began to climb the stairs.

“Oh, why? Were they asking to do some weird changes or something?” Steve didn’t seem at all concerned about the cost. He stopped at the bottom step then carefully pulled the edge of his chosen box up onto the step in order to begin sliding it up the stairs. Finally, he realized he wouldn’t be able to do it alone. “Buck? When you get that put away, can you come help me? I think I thought I was stronger than I am?” He flushed lightly.

Bucky nodded and set the toys down in Ava’s room before walking back down the stairs and lifting the opposite side of the large, heavy box with a soft grunt.

“You guide and take the top and I’ll stabilize and get the lion’s share?” The blond offered, squatting to lift his part of the box. As they worked together, Steve did indeed take the heavier share simply because he was the bottom. They made their steady way up the stairs and Steve let Bucky guide them wherever he wished, trusting the instructions completely. “Thanks, Buck, I guess I forget I’m not in it alone.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly and dropped his end when they made it into the art room.

Steve lowered his half and let the box lean against some of his shelves. “Let me just move this stuff and I’ll go get the dresser,” he said, glancing at Bucky to make sure the other man was okay after the hard job. “I can call you for that when I’m ready?” Steve planned to take a bit of time to give his lover a breather before asking him to do heavy lifting again.

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his trembling limbs, Bucky nodded and turned to walk out of the room, planning on grabbing some of the smaller, lighter boxes from the living room.

Frowning with serious worry, Bucky had been off since being discharged, Steve worried that maybe they should have waited another day. He carefully moved his art supplies, easels, and other paraphernalia to the window side of the room so the heavy furniture wouldn’t damage them.

After several trips up and down the stairs, Bucky set the last of the small boxes in Ava’s room. His legs felt like jello and he cursed himself for allowing it to get so bad.

Steve still hadn’t called Bucky to help him, though he had come down a few times to the living room.

“My Bucky? My Steve?” Kevin’s voice came from the steps as the boy began to climb them, one at a time, crawling rather than walking. Steve came out of the art room.

Walking out of Ava’s room, Bucky leaned against the wall to take some of his weight off his legs and smiled weakly at the little boy, “what’s up, buddy?”

“Lunch?” Kevin announced happily, grinning up at them then looking back at the steps as he concentrated on crawling up.

Steve walked over to Bucky and put an arm around him. “You look so beautiful with that flushed face and . . .” Steve blushed, brushing damp hair from Bucky’s face, whispering in his ear, “like we were just in bed . . .”

Flushing, Bucky cleared his throat and ducked his head, “uh . . . thanks?”

Continuing to whisper, Steve nipped Bucky’s ear very lightly, “Makes me wanna carry you downstairs, toss you on the couch, and kiss you all over.” He began to slide his arm under Bucky’s legs as if starting to act on the sexy impulse.

Bucky keened and had to brace himself heavier against the wall, the suggestion making his knees weaker than they already were.

Successfully, Steve managed to lift Bucky in his arms, glad the brunet hadn’t protested. He smiled at Bucky and kissed his throat. The blond turned towards the stairs, his heart thrumming from the steady loads he’d been carrying, but he ignored it to carry his lover.

Ava set a plate of sandwiches on the dining room table and looked up at the adults with confusion.

Kevin turned as the men passed him and began sliding on his butt down the steps after them.

“Why are you carrying Uncle Bucky, Steve?” Ava asked as she sat down at the table. Two glasses of juice already poured, one in a sippy cup, presumingly for Kevin.

“Well, because Knights always carry their Princes, don’t they?” Steve panted slightly and beamed at the little girl. He got to the bottom of the steps and walked into the dining room, setting Bucky on his chair with a flourish. “Ta da! Knight errant fifteen accomplished: carrying my fair love.” He hoped Bucky didn’t catch on that Steve had been doing it because he’d been afraid the brunet would fall on his face if he so much as tried to step. Steve sank into his own chair, flushed and beaming.

Kevin ran into the room, smiling, and climbed onto his own chair, holding out his hands towards Ava. “Dirty?”

“I already washed my hands,” Ava commented, sitting down in her chair.

Bucky sighed and braced himself on the table to stand up, but stopped with Steve waved dismissively at him.

Steve laughed a bit. “I’ll get it,” he said and went to fetch a washcloth and drying towel. He came back, still panting slightly, but smiling, and sat down, beginning to wash Kevin’s face and hands. “Want the cloth next, Buck?”

Noticing his boyfriend’s heavy breathing, Bucky took the cloth with a hesitant smile and asked softly, “you okay?” He began to wipe off his hands, dirty from carrying all those cardboard boxes.

Nodding, not dismissing Bucky’s worry, Steve said, “need to catch my breath, but I’m good, Buck.” He offered a smile.

Ava grabbed one of the sandwiches off the plate and put it on her own.

Steve told Bucky, “want it back after so I can wash up.” He turned to look at the sandwiches. “These look great, Ava! Thanks for making lunch. Don’t forget to add that to your chore done list, okay?”

After he finished with his own hands, Bucky handed his lover the cloth again and grabbed a sandwich to put on Kevin’s plate before taking one for himself.

Steve quickly washed up and set the cloth, folded, near his plate. He took a sandwich for himself, knowing he could go back for more since Ava had made enough. “So, Ava, after lunch do you have any plans? Because I can think of something for you, if you need ideas?”

Swallowing the large bite she took, Ava shook her head with a giggle, “I wanna help you, Steve.”

Kevin began eating, smiling, getting peanut butter and jelly across his face as he enjoyed his lunch.

“Me? Oh, I was thinking you could help Uncle Bucky find places for all Kevin’s toys . . . try them out and make sure they aren’t broken? You know . . . in case any have to be returned?” Steve took a bite and made a soft gratified noise. He’d always enjoyed food.

Bucky nibbled on his sandwich; he didn’t feel nauseous but he didn’t have a large appetite either. He looked at Steve and then at Ava.

“I can do that . . . but shouldn’t Kevin see his new toys, too?” Ava asked before taking another bite.

Nodding, steve swallowed and grinned. “Good, you can help Bucky figure out how the games go, too, so you guys can teach me later. I’m just going to straighten the living room and hall from all the traffic and stuff. I should be ready before dinner to come join you guys?” He took another bite of sandwich and quickly chewed and swallowed. “I was thinking we could put the furniture together after the room’s complete? Might be easier to move the boxes back downstairs instead of completed furniture?” He looked to Bucky for confirmation.

After only eating about half the sandwich, Bucky nodded as he set the food back on his plate, “yeah, that’d be easier . . . might not be able to get the bed back down the stairs if we assembled it.”

Nodding, Steve asked, “Ava wanna get Bucky and me some drinks, please?” He smiled at her, taking another bite, but not pushing Bucky to eat more.

Kevin finished his sandwich and reached for his cup.

Nodding, Ava pushed away from the table and trotted into the kitchen. Bucky looked at Kevin, the boy’s face and hands covered in a sticky concoction of peanut butter and jelly.

Without a word, Steve pushed the folded cloth towards Bucky and reached for the other man’s plate. "Done with that, Sweetheart, or saving it?” He smiled.

Taking the cloth, Bucky began to clean Kevin’s face and hands, “I’m done . . . thank you.”

“So you don’t mind if I finish it?” Steve took the half sandwich and put it on his own plate without further permission. “Unless, of course, you think you might catch something if I eat after you?” Steve teased lightly and began to eat the sandwich.

After Kevin was clean, Bucky put down the cloth and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

Ava came out with another glass of juice and a can of _Sprite_. She immediately noticed Steve eating the second half of Bucky’s sandwich. Handing the juice to Steve and the soda to Bucky, she offered her uncle a worried smile, “for your upset tummy?”

Steve took another bite, smiling at Ava’s thoughtfulness.

Bucky smiled and took the can from Ava, “thank you, Squirt.”

Looking over at Steve, Ava furrowed her brows and asked, “I thought you said we aren’t supposed to share food if someone’s sick . . . doesn’t that spread the germs?”

“Yeah, but Uncle Bucky’s not that kind of sick, remember? Riley told you it was from being stressed that he’s sick, not a cold or anything . . .” Steve’s blue eyes widened as much as Kevin’s grey ones often did. “Wait . . . are you saying this has Bucky germs on it? You mean,” and he turned an aghast look on his lover, “you _licked_ this before giving it to me?”

Snorting softly and rolling his eyes playfully, Bucky smirked, “yup . . . licked it all over.”

Steve looked at the sandwich as if it had sprouted eyes and wings. Slowly, he gulped, “mustn’t . . . waste . . . food . . . good . . . Ava . . . food . . .” he ate the rest. After swallowing, he grinned.

“So dramatic,” Bucky sighed in fake exasperation, Ava was lost in a fit of giggles.

“Must get that from our little queen,” Steve smirked back, rolling his eyes towards Ava.


	11. Yet Another Monkey-Wrench

Two days later, Bucky and Steve had established a rocky schedule. They would all wake up and have breakfast together and then Steve would leave for the clinic while Bucky stayed home with the children. Ava had been acting a lot better and Bucky hoped that the tantrums were over and things were finally starting to settle down.

Bucky set down Kevin’s sippy cup full of juice on the table where the boy sat coloring. Ava sat on the couch watching a cartoon and the brunet released a deep breath at the small moment of quietness. Just as he was about to sit down to next to Kevin, the bell from the gate rang.

Confused, Bucky straightened and walked over to the door, looking out the peephole his breath caught in his throat. “What the . . .” He quickly punched in the code and called out before stepping outside, “Ava, watch Kevin for a moment, please?”

Shutting the door Bucky stared at the figure standing behind the gate with wide eyes.

Thor looked out of the window to the spare room and beamed. “All is well, Barnes?” The sound of continued construction echoed from inside the structure.

Walking to the gate, Bucky opened it, “Becca? What are you - - you’re out? No one told me.”

Smiling, touching her hair, up in a neat bun, Becca nodded. “I thought I told you they wanted to release me?” She seemed very pleased, almost vibrating with excitement. Her eyes shot to the house behind her brother and she seemed to look for something, only finding the disappearing sight of Thor to greet her.

“Yeah . . . but - - no one told me you were actually out,” Bucky would have to have a serious conversation with Tony Stark; he was still Becca’s next of kin and he should’ve been alerted of her release.

“Oh, that,” Becca waved her hand. “I’m due to get out tomorrow, actually. Today I’m on a visiting pass.” She beamed at Bucky. “Didn’t you get the message? Maybe your phone’s off? They said they’d call you when they gave me the pass today.”

Bucky stared at his sister, then he turned to look at the house. True, Becca and Ava had been seeing each other once a week . . . but that was in the safety of the clinic . . . not at his home. Turning to look back at his sister, Bucky stepped onto the sidewalk, shutting the gate behind him.

The smile fell away from her face and she turned grey-blue eyes on her younger brother. “She’s my daughter, Bucky.”

Shaking his head softly, Bucky muttered, “now isn’t a good time, Becca. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean, not a good time? Just because _they_ forgot to call you, you’re punishing me and my baby? You can’t keep her away from me. I’m her _mother_!” Becca crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

“Rebecca,” Bucky started, voice hardening just slightly, “we are not doing this right now. I’m telling you now isn’t a good time.”

“We aren’t ever doing _this_ if you have your way,” she spat out. “Well, I have news for you, Jimmy Barnes! You are not her father. Hank died. And it would be disgusting if you tried to say you were. I am her _mother_. I am right here, cleared to live on my own, and I will have my daughter! You can’t keep her from me.”

“And you tried to kill her, Rebecca!” Bucky snapped back, his fingers twitching by his side.

“And I served my time and got treatment for that!” She ground out. “You even signed off to say you noticed the change!” Glancing at the house, she narrowed her eyes. “So, either you let me see my daughter, or I report you for kidnapping and holding her hostage.”

“I am her fucking guardian!” Bucky shouted, throwing his arms in the air, “I can’t kidnap her!”

“You use that language in front of my baby? You pig, Bucky!” She started getting louder. “I will fight you on this. All I want to do is visit, but if you’re gonna play this game, I can, too! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer! And, I know all about your eating trouble and your drugs for stress and your boyfriend and that other kid. I’ll get the courts to give me my daughter back, and then _I’ll_ keep _you_ away from Ava!” Becca’s hands had clenched in anger, face livid.

“Becca, please! Don’t do this! I’ve had her for for eight years! She’s more my daughter than yours! You gave up that right when you tried to burn her alive!” Bucky’s blood rushed in his ears and he felt on the edge of a panic attack. This couldn’t be happening. Rebecca couldn’t be serious!

“I knew it! I knew you wanted her for your own! You were lying to me every time you said I’d get her back, that you were just looking out for her. I _gave birth_ to that little girl, and I _will_ take her back!” She pressed a single finger against Bucky’s chest. “And I never, not once, signed away rights to my kid. That was a temporary arrangement. I have the papers.” The woman whirled around and stormed down the street, pulling out what appeared to be a brand new cell phone.

Bucky stumbled back, legs colliding with the chainlink behind him.

A hand through the metal links pressed steadily at the small of his back, warm and firm. “Come back inside,” Lucky’s voice calmly instructed. “Call a lawyer and call Steve. Go give Ava a hug once you’ve calmed yourself.” The man didn’t pretend to know what was really going on, but the shouting woman had drawn him out to observe.

Numbly, Bucky walked back towards the house, already digging his phone out of his pocket. Lucky locked and armed the gate behind them.

A missed message light flicked on and off, denoting his battery was losing charge.

Collapsing on the stoop, Bucky quickly dialed Steve’s number and let out a sob as he waited for his boyfriend to pick up.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice faded in and out, but he was there on the other side. “Buck?”

“Steve!” Bucky cried out, breath ragged and distant.

Without waiting for further words, Steve called out, “I’m on my way. Need a doctor or just me?” The sound of running footsteps could be heard from Steve’s end.

“She’s gonna take her, Steve! She - - we’re gonna lose her!” Bucky sobbed again and he covered his mouth with a shaky hand.

A frown could be heard in the strong, deep voice. Steve stated firmly “we aren’t losing anyone, Bucky. Lock the gate, I’ll bring Sam. Tony!” the blond called to his boss before Bucky’s phone went dead due to his battery.

Dropping the phone, Bucky let it clatter to the wooden steps, uncaring if he cracked the screen.

A second phone appeared right before Bucky, and Lucky put his arm around the other lean man. “Here, fully charged,” he offered. “Call whoever you need, including Steve.” He guided the man through the front door and up the steps, nowhere near the kids in the living room. Below them, Thor could be heard in the living room, chatting to Ava about the cartoon, obviously having gone to the kids when the contractors had heard the shouting woman outside.

Once inside his own bedroom, Bucky clutched Lucky’s phone tightly but his eyes had glazed over and he muttered incoherently under his breath.

Reaching over, not removing the phone from the burnet’s hands, Lucky hit speed dial. The phone began to ring. Finally, a voice answered, “Murdock and Nelson, family attorneys . . . how can I help you?”

Lucky poked Bucky’s hip. “Tell him what happened,” he instructed in a firm, commanding voice.

“She’s gonna take her away . . .” Bucky answered, stumbling back and hitting the wall behind him.

“Give me your name, sir,” the voice instructed, businesslike.

“James Barnes,” Bucky muttered.

“And who is she trying to take, James?” the man went on, voice still calm and in control, reassuring in his take charge attitude.

“My niece . . . her mother - -” Bucky let out another choked sob, the fingers of his left hand twitching violently by now.

“Her mother is trying to take your niece,” the man repeated back. “But you have custody of your niece, correct?” The lawyer was used to dealing with custody cases and distraught guardians.

“I - - I have custody,” Bucky answered, numb. He hadn’t had a panic attack in years.

“Good, you have documents, James? Papers to show this?” The man seemed to know exactly what to do in this situation, as if he’d done this a hundred times, which he had.

Becca knew about his medication . . . about his problems with keeping down food. She knew about Steve, about Kevin, about Rumlow. _Oh my God._ She knew everything. He was going to lose Ava. Becca was going to win this.

“James!” The man on the other side of Lucky’s phone snapped sharply. “I asked, do you have documents? Papers awarding you custody yet?”

“Yes,” Bucky choked out, his breathing shallow and pupils blown. _Where was Steve?_

“Good, that helps. Now, do you want me to come meet you somewhere? We need to talk,” the lawyer responded.

“Home? You - - can you come here?”

“Do you have the little girl with you right now, James? Is she safe?” Truly, the lawyer had no idea if this man was the legal guardian or had been doing the kidnapping, but for now, he would treat the caller as the lawful protector. He had to make sure the kid was safe at all costs.

“She’s safe,” Bucky reported, his left hand clenching and unclenching.

A firm, calloused hand unclenched Bucky’s and settled in his palm, clasping him reassuringly. Lucky took the phone from the brunet. “I will give you the address, Matt. You come here now, drop everyone else. That woman was just released from a hospital, if I heard correctly.”

Bucky’s vision tunneled and a sudden firm slap on his face stunned him. Releasing a low whine, he stumbled with the force of the blow, but Lucky’s firm grip on his hand prevented him falling, and his vision cleared. His whole body began to tremble. _Where was Steve?_

Hanging up after a few words to the lawyer, Lucky led Bucky to the bathroom and straight to the shower. Still fully clothed, he pushed the man under the shower and turned on the cold water, then slowly let it warm up. “You need to get control, Mr. Barnes, for your girl’s sake.”

Standing under the spray, not moving to dodge the water, Bucky continued to shake, “Ava . . .”

“Ava is downstairs with my over-sized, over-protective guard dog of a brother. She is more than safe. As is your boy. So, you need to get it together so you can fight for her.” Lucky turned off the water and grabbed a towel. “Do I need to put it on cold again?”

Bucky shook his head, whole body soaked, but his breathing began to even out ever so slightly.

“I will pay if I destroyed your clothing, now come out of there and help me help _you_ plan your defense against this lady’s attack.” Lucky threw a towel over Bucky’s head and began to vigorously dry his hair, not seeming to be gentle, just thorough.

“Steve is coming, yes?” Lucky said firmly.

“Steve . . .” Bucky whined again, a quiet, pitiful sound.

Lucky stopped and sighed. He lifted Bucky’s face, pushing towel and hair back slightly so he could meet those grey-blue eyes with his ice green. “Okay, Steve is coming. Thor will let no one touch your kids, even the mailman. Matt and Foggy are on the way. Why don’t we find your papers and go downstairs to meet the party?”

“Gimme a second.” It was the first coherent sentence Bucky had managed to piece together.

Nodding, Lucky handed a second towel to Bucky and stepped back a few paces, silent once more, watchful.

The front door opened and Steve’s voice called out, “Bucky? I’m home?”

“Thank the Heavens,” Lucky murmured.

Still in the shower, Bucky shivered but continued to try and dry himself off, although with how thoroughly the clothes were soaked, it was pointless.

With a nod, Lucky said, “strip first. Makes it easier. I’ll get your boyfriend.” He turned on his heel and left, crisp sound of footfalls striking the wooden floors in the hall and on the steps.

Bucky pulled off his shirt, the drenched fabric clinging tightly and he threw it into the hamper. With shaking hands, he tried to unbutton his pants, but he couldn’t manage the task with how violently his hands were shaking.

Downstairs, Lucky grasped Steve’s arm and whispered urgently into his ear. He then stepped to the porch to await the lawyers, nodding as he passed Sam on the way. Steve turned wide, frightened eyes to the detective. “Someone came and tried to get Ava? Threatened Bucky with court? Was it Becca?” He turned and bolted for the steps.

Still working on trying to remove his pants, Bucky didn’t even hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs.

Steve skidded into the bedroom and went directly to the bathroom. He didn’t even pause, walking directly over to Bucky and pulling him into a fierce hug. “Bucky? I’m back, Sweetheart. What happened?”

Bucky let himself be pulled into the hug but he didn’t return it, staring blankly ahead, “Becca came. She’s gonna take Ava away, Steve,” his tone distant, almost distracted, much like the attacks of five years ago.

Without arguing the point, Steve dropped to his knees and began unfastening Bucky’s drenched, water-tight pants. He said, “how does she think she can do that, Buck? You’re the guardian. Becca tried to . . . you know.” He worked the material slowly down Bucky’s chilled legs. Grabbing Bucky’s left hand, Steve guided it to his own large shoulder, encouraging the man to balance on him. The strong blond lifted first one of Bucky’s legs then the other, taking off shoes, socks, pants and boxers all at the same time. He reached out to grab a towel then began to dry Bucky’s legs, his ass, and his privates, worried about the chill on top of everything else. “Sam’s downstairs right now.” Steve remained kneeling as he worked on Bucky, looking up occasionally to check on his reactions.

Bucky let Steve dry him off; he wanted to curl up and not deal with anything. He didn’t want to talk to Sam. He didn’t want to talk with the lawyers. Bucky didn’t want to make the wrong decision, like he always did. He was going to lose Ava. After eight years of raising, loving, fighting every single damn day to make sure she was happy and healthy . . . he was going to lose her.

Finally, Steve stopped drying and stood. He picked up his nude boyfriend and carried him into the bedroom, curling up next to him on the bed, merely kicking off his own shoes before settling the man against him.. He trusted Sam with the kids, so would take this time for his lover. “Bucky, how come she thinks she can take Ava?” he repeated.

“I’m not good enough . . . she knows everything, Steve. Everything. My anxiety. My eating. You.” Bucky’s voice trembling as much as his body.

Caressing Bucky’s chest, Steve said, “Becca knows about me because you took me to see her, remember? She could hardly forget a six foot two blond gorilla.” Steve caressed again, not sexually, more like one would pet a child who cried. “And she knows that you get nervous and anxious. You have ever since we were kids, Buck. And when you get anxious, you don’t eat unless someone makes you. So, how is any of this new?” Steve smiled at Bucky, trying to reassure him.

Bucky let out a gasping, wrecked sob, clutching at his boyfriend’s shirt as if Steve was his anchor. “I - - I didn’t . . . didn’t let - - her come - - in,” his chest fell and rose heavily, gasping as he tried to catch his breath.

“Good,” Steve stated firmly. “She is supposed to be seeing Ava at the clinic, not at Ava’s safe house. She’s not supposed to be coming in here. So, you did right, Buck.” He stroked once more, moving his hand to Bucky’s abdomen but no lower. This was not the time for sex, and Steve had no interest anyway.

“She - - she said . . . I - - I wasn’t Ava’s - - father!” Bucky’s breathing became shallow again and he couldn’t bring it under control.

Steve shook his head, dropping a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder. “Of course you’re her father, Bucky. Just because she’s the biological mother, and Hank the biological father, doesn’t mean you’re not Ava’s true daddy.” He stroked softly over Bucky’s stomach. “You take care of her when she’s sick, get her to school, feed and clothe her, cuddle and cheer her on. _You’re_ her father.”

“Steve . . .” Bucky gasped, lungs aching from not being able to take appropriate sized breaths.

“Come on,” Steve suddenly kissed Bucky’s lips and met his eyes. “Breathe, baby, breathe. Don’t make me hit you to shock you,” he kissed Bucky again.

After a few ragged, shaky breaths, Bucky finally started to calm down.

A knock downstairs came, but Steve didn’t move. He kept his eyes on Bucky, kissing his lips, cheek, and neck softly. “Want a shot, Buck? Not a strong one, but the calming one? Riley gave me some if you needed them.”

Tucking his head against Steve’s chest, Bucky nodded, knowing he’d have to calm down more if he wanted any chance to talk to the lawyers.

With a nod, Steve reached into the bed stand and pulled out the key to the medicine cabinet for their bathroom. He’d insisted on having it lockable once he and Bucky had agreed to go on regular medicines, just in case Ava got curious. Standing and quickly retrieving the med, Steve came back and sank onto the bed. He silently alcohol wiped Bucky’s arm then gave him the shot of mild medicine. Steve leaned over and slid the needle into the locking sharps container he kept next to the bed for his own shots. Finally, Steve snuggled back with his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the nude man. “Should work in a couple seconds, Buck.”

“I - - I can’t lose her, Stevie . . . I can’t,” Bucky muttered, the medicine already beginning to work and settle his breathing and lower his heart rate.

“You won’t.” Steve assured him. “We won’t.” He tugged the blanket over Bucky, smiling. “Mind if we have a pow wow with Sam?”

“That’s fine,” Bucky answered, eyes refocusing, and he felt in better control of himself.

“I’ll get him and find out who knocked on the door a moment ago. Want me to send Ava and Kevin in for quick cuddles before I ask Thor and Lucky to babysit them?” Steve headed over to the dresser and got boxers for Bucky, bringing them back and handing them to his lover.

Sliding on the boxers, Bucky shook his head, “not sure that’s a good idea right now, Stevie,” he stated honestly.

“Okay, later than. I’ll go ask Thor to give them some pizza and stay late to play games with them. Do you want Lucky to play babysitter or counselor?” The blond stroked the brunet’s damp hair.

“Babysitter? I don’t - -” Bucky looked a little confused, he looked up at Steve, “We’ll need to tell Ava, won’t we?”

“We can work things out then talk to her, Buck. Not right now, you said it yourself.” Steve stroked his lover’s hair again and dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Let’s get a game plan in order before we go worrying about telling anyone anything.”

Nodding, Bucky stood on shaky legs, but the sudden movement caused him to sway.

“Whoa,” Steve helped him balance. “I was thinking on inviting Sam up here to talk, not forcing you out of bed while on meds, Buck. Unless you really wanna go somewhere else with this meeting?” He wrapped an arm around his lover.

Sinking back onto the bed, Bucky nodded, “yeah . . . okay.”

“Want clothes or you wanna get back under the blankets?” Steve teased lightly.

“Clothes, please. If I get under the covers I’m gonna fall asleep,” Bucky murmured softly.

“Right,” Steve agreed and grabbed some of Bucky’s pajamas. He made sure the other man was dressing, albeit shakily, before walking out to the top of the stars. He frowned at seeing two men he didn’t know, but strode down and grinned as Kevin broke into a run to come hug him. “Heya, Kevin. Ava, how’s it going?”

“What’s going on, Steve? Why is Uncle Bucky crying?” Ava asked, tone serious.

“Well, remember he only just got out of the hospital a couple days ago, Ava, for his stress. Today, he felt stressed again when he got in a verbal fight with someone outside. He’s upstairs resting. Sam’s going to go talk to him about the fight, so I’m gonna need you to watch Kevin and Thor for a while longer, okay? You can show them how to play some of the games.”

Ava watched Steve intently, she then turned to look at Kevin and Thor.

The big blond beamed at Ava. “I see a game with snakes? How is that played?” He gestured to _Snakes and Ladders_.

Sam stepped away from the two lawyers and stepped closer to Steve; in a quiet whisper he asked, “how’s he doing?”

“Much better,” Steve answered with a relieved smile. “He wants to talk about options and what we can do. Um . . .who are they?” he looked at the strangers in his home.

“Oh!” Sam smiled softly and gestured to the lawyers, “They are Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson. They are family court lawyers. I guess Lucky had Bucky call them after he got off the phone with you.”

“You mean,” and Steve practically mouthed the words, “custody lawyers?”

Nodding, Sam’s eyes flickered to Ava.

“Okay, all three of you, then. Bucky wants this sorted so he can concentrate on the kids.” Steve smiled at the attorneys and held out a hand. “I’m Steve Rogers. Thank you for coming.”

The taller, dark haired man held out a hand in Steve’s direction and smiled, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses, cane clutched loosely against his body. “Matt Murdock.”

Steve met his hand and shook it then offered his hand to the stockier blond. “Welcome to our home. Bucky’s upstairs. James,” he confirmed.

Foggy nodded and shook Steve’s hand, “I’m Foggy Nelson. Please, lead the way Mr. Rogers.”


	12. Investigations Again

With a smile to Sam, Steve led the three men up the stairs and into the bedroom. He did not make any attempt to hide the bathroom’s disarray, with wet clothes and towels everywhere. Instead, he brought the men chairs so they could sit then sank down next to Bucky on the bed. “This is James Barnes. He’s the one who received the threats.” He stroked Bucky’s hair. “This is Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson. They’re Family Court Attorneys, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, running his still trembling fingers through his hair.

“Now,” Steve explained swiftly, “just to fill you in a bit. Bucky’s anxiety medicine is still being adjusted and he’s had a mild sedative tonight, but he’s quite capable of coherent decisions.” Steve turned to Bucky. “Buck? Wanna tell them why Ava lives with you?” The blond stood and walked to the fireproof safe to unlock it and retrieve Bucky’s legal documents.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky cleared his throat and began, “eight years ago, my sister, Rebecca Proctor, lost her husband Hank in a fire. He - - he was a firefighter. About a week after his funeral, I went to check on her - - she had set her own home on fire, with herself and Ava still inside.” Bucky paused, releasing a shaky breath and closing his eyes. He could still see the smoke and flames billowing out of the windows, just like the events had happened only a few days ago, rather than eight years. “I got Ava out . . . went back inside to try and get Rebecca. I passed out, though. Woke up in a hospital a few days later, but the fire department had already determined that the fire had been purposely started, and Rebecca had confessed to it. So,” Bucky shrugged softly, “after I got discharged, I got custody of Ava.”

Foggy had a notepad out, jotting down notes and nodding along as Bucky explained things.

Matt remained staring at a spot just over Bucky’s shoulder, though by his cane it was evident then man was blind, not rude. He said in a calm voice, the same one Bucky had spoken to on the phone, “you have these papers,” he felt Steve place them in his lap but handed them off to Foggy, “are the original custody files and police reports in there as well?”

Flipping through the documents, Foggy nodded and said, “the custody papers are only temporary though. The courts gave Mr. Barnes custody while Ms. Proctor was unwell.”

Steve flushed and stayed out of it. He knew he’d have to tell them about his own involvement real soon, and had pulled out his own records to prove his case. He prayed that Rumlow hadn’t, once again, jeopardized Ava.

“And she is well now?” Matt asked.

“She has been cleared by the hospital, they are releasing her tomorrow,” Bucky answered.

“If she is being released tomorrow, how was she at your gate this evening, James?” Matt asked calmly.

“They gave her a visiting pass, at least, that’s what she told me,” Bucky reported; he still wanted to talk to Tony about the policy. Becca should have never been cleared to go if they couldn’t get a hold of him and gotten his approval.

“And if she was not yet released, who signed for the pass? Who is _her_ guardian?” Matt added.

“I’m supposed to be, that’s why I was surprised to see her, I never signed off on anything,” Bucky shook his head, obviously frustrated.

“Understandable,” Matt confirmed. “Foggy, check with the hospital. Find out if she got a pass or just walked out.” After listening for his partner to notate the order, Matt added, “And what is Steve’s involvement, please?”

“I’m his boyfriend.,” Steve supplied, voice going soft, nervous. “I live here.”

“For how long?” Foggy asked, still scribbling down something on the paper.

“Five years,” Steve said softly. “I usually tend house while Bucky works, but he’s on vacation this summer.” Steve ducked his head.

“Any specific reason for taking the summer off, Mr. Barnes?” Foggy questioned, finally looking up at the two men.

Bucky looked at Steve and then back to Foggy, “we - - uh, just got a new foster son. I figured it was best someone be home to get him settled. Steve was asked to volunteer at The Maria Stark Free Clinic . . .“

“Tony Stark, the director, said he needed me since he was short staffed this summer. Bucky said he’d take vacation so I could do that.” The blond lifted his head, eyes worried, fingers clasping his documents tightly.

“You two are not married, correct?” Foggy asked, looking down at his notes again.

“No,” Steve answered and hung his head again.

Bucky saw the dejected motion and frowned, was the idea of marrying him _that_ bad?

Matt seemed intrigued, “So, Steve, you have lived here five years and helped take care of and raise Ava, correct?”

Steve’s head shot up. “I’ve done everything I can, but Bucky’s the one raising her. He’s pretty much her father, not me!” he shot back defensively.

Foggy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise from the man’s outburst; he looked over at Matt, shaking his head, Foggy turned to write something else down.

Running his fingers lightly up and down the top of his cane, Matt asked smoothly, “but someone has accused you of trying to take over, Steve?”

Nodding then shaking his head, Steve bowed it again and said, softly, “Ava told the kids at school that I’m her dad.”

Matt nodded, “well, that makes sense, since Uncles and Dads aren’t usually the same thing, and Ava probably wouldn’t want to give up her Uncle Bucky.” He waited for their reactions.

Bucky tilted his head, studying the blind lawyer, his words echoing in the brunet’s ears. Looking at Steve, Bucky searched his lover’s face.

Steve looked a mixed between hopeful and ashamed. “I never wanted to take her heart from Bucky or her real dad’s memory. I swear. I just wanna be Steve and be part of things?”

Matt nodded and finally offered a light smile. “Of course. But, think of a child’s world. It’s pretty much yes and no. If Uncle Bucky, who is the mainstay of her life, is _uncle_ then what word to use for Steve who’s been part of the family since she was five? Oh, no one’s using the word _daddy_ , let’s give him that word to use so Bucky stays the caring, loving, everything uncle. See, in Ava’s world, uncles are the ones who are always there . . . not daddies.” He waited again.

“I,” Steve swallowed and looked at Bucky. “I never thought of it that way.” He sounded hopeful.

Looking at Steve with wide eyes, Bucky shook his head, “me neither.”

Matt nodded, proving by his words that he often worked with children in his job, “Ava has only ever known Mom, who’s sick, and Bucky, the _uncle_ who raises her and cares for her. Suddenly, Steve comes in, which is great, but he’s new and needs a word. The other kids have Dads, so that must mean Steve can be dad, because heaven forbid if we make Bucky _dad_ and he decides to leave like Mom or real dad. Does that make sense? Think like a ten year old.”

Foggy cleared his throat, looking down at the files in his lap and the paper full of notes.

Nodding at Foggy’s cue, Matt switched topics. “So, now that we’ve established that Steve’s not trying to steal Ava, I hear by the rustle of papers that there are files not yet handed over?”

Steve flushed and ducked his head, handing the file reluctantly to Foggy. “Yeah, this is the police and child services investigation into the two allegations of child abuse against me.”

“Two allegations?” Foggy asked incredulously, snatching the files from Steve’s hands, “this changes things.”

Matt stiffened, frowning suddenly.

Looking through the files, Foggy clucked his tongue and said softly to his partner, “sexual abuse allegations, Matt.”

Steve hung his head, once more cringing into himself as Rumlow’s lies came back to haunt him again. “I didn’t hurt anyone. I never would.” Taking a breath, he corrected, “well, I did put Brock in the ICU, but I’d never hurt a kid!”

“It was his ex,” Bucky explained softly, “Brock Rumlow called in those tips to punish Steve. They aren’t true. He’s been living under the same roof with Ava for five years . . . you can ask her. Steve would never hurt a child.”

“We will,” Matt assured him quietly. He paused and asked, “you fostered recently? So, we may access those clearance files?”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, thankfully, head coming up, eyes shining at the defense. “I was cleared totally, for the third time.”

“And you will agree to a lie detector test and interviews by sex offender counselors? To verify these claims?” Matt prodded.

“Anything!” Steve agreed.

Snapping the files shut, Foggy asked, “Brock Rumlow? We’ve heard that name before?” He looked to Matt, tapping his pen on the paper.

Matt nodded. “Sex trafficking about seven years ago, I believe. Also, five years ago, he was arrested for kidnapping and false imprisonment. His confirmed partner, married I believe while they’ve been incarcerated, was a dirty cop.”

“Married?” Steve looked shocked. “Brock married . . . Jack?” The blond went pale.

Bucky shook his head, a low growl breaking past his lips. “That’s fantastic . . . good for them. Hope they rot together,” He snarled.

Steve flinched. All the time he’d spent with Rumlow, all the promises and lies, and Brock had always withheld that elusive ring. Steve didn’t want Brock anymore, but it still made him feel inadequate, that Brock would go for Jack over him.

Noticing Steve’s behavior, Bucky looked at his boyfriend with shocked, hurt eyes. Was Steve actually upset by this news? _What the fuck?_

“So,” Matt interrupted the hidden by play, the blind man setting things back on course yet again, “your sister left the hospital and confronted you here, at the house. She wanted to see her daughter or take her away? What happened, James?”

Snapping his eyes to look at Matt, Bucky cleared his throat and forced himself to take a deep breath. “She wanted to see Ava. I didn’t let her. I didn’t want her in the house. She got pretty upset . . . telling me that if I wasn’t going to let her see Ava that she’d take her back.”

“Any other threats or claims? Was she violent?” Matt tilted his head.

“She kept repeating that she was Ava’s mother. Also, she knows about my anxiety disorder, which causes me to have troubles eating.” Bucky reported, he couldn’t look at Steve right then, he forced his eyes straight ahead.

“And you are being treated for these disorders, James?” Matt prompted.

“Yes, I was off my medication for three months . . . I just started them up again . . . after some - - uh . . . complications I had from not eating.”

“Hospital time?” Matt asked gently. “But, you can get records from the doctors attesting you are back on regular meds? That your anxiety disorder and eating disorder does not impose a threat on your children? That your partner is able to take over if you are having a bad day, so the children are not without adult supervision?”

“Yes, of course,” Bucky answered quickly.

“That’s perfect,” Matt nodded with a smile. “Foggy, check on the Rebecca escape or visitor pass. Check on Steve’s background with this Brock Rumlow. These allegations of abuse, and get those tests arranged for him to go through as soon as possible. I want an appointment with child services about Ava and the little boy, what was his name? Kevin? I want James’ records and affidavits from friends and neighbors attesting that James and his partner are good, loving parents.” He sat back. “And I want the records, full records if possible, about the initial fire and Rebecca’s eight years of incarceration . . . any setbacks, whether she should be with her child unsupervised, if she’s a threat. Even if she’s released, it doesn’t make her a fit parent.”

Foggy nodded, writing as Matt spoke, after his partner finished, he said, “I honestly think we have a good case here, Mr. Barnes - - Mr. Rogers. Especially if she became agitated during today’s visit.” The blond lawyer stood and handed back the files, “we will need copies of those, as well. I can swing by tomorrow to pick them up?”

“I can go get them certified at the courthouse tomorrow morning,” Steve offered, still sounding confused and worried and upset. He had made a decision, but it felt so out of place, he would talk to Bucky later. If Rumlow had held out on a ring and made Steve feel so unwanted and desperate, was Steve doing the same to Bucky? Steve wanted to propose to his lover. Even if Bucky turned him down, Steve would know he hadn’t denied Bucky the chance to make this family a permanent, real thing . . . like Steve so desperately wanted.

Nodding, Foggy offered Steve a smile, “I will meet you at the courthouse, then.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve answered promptly.

Bucky flinched and wrapped his arms around his legs, tugging them close to his chest.

“One more thing,” Matt said. “James, would you be willing to go through a post traumatic evaluation? This can be used to clear you of any lingering problems dealing with the fire and the rescue. We can use the results to prove you will not be pushed over the edge and attempt to solve your problems a similar way to your sister.”

Bucky wanted to throw something. Post traumatic evaluation? Would he pass something like that? What if he took it and only made things worse?

When the man didn’t answer, Matt filled in, “I’m only trying to think of anything Rebecca might have the lawyer ask. Or that he or she might come up with to block you. Remember, the goal is to prove you are working on your problems and are not a danger to your children. This will help prove you are the better parent, James.”

“Okay,” Bucky muttered sheepishly, why was this happening? Why would Becca do this?

Matt nodded and stood. “James, in case you were curious, in instances where a parent has tried to kill a child in the name of helping? That parent is inclined to try again. Don’t let her near the girl, is my advice.”

“I’ll cancel any visits for right now,” Bucky agreed.

Matt shook his head, “I would say very supervised visits would be fine. Ava should not go anywhere with her mother, even the bathroom. And under no circumstances should she accept food or even drink from her mother. I don’t say Rebecca will attempt poison, since that would be a change of M.O., but I would rather you not take a chance. But unless you want to sit that child down and explain why she’s no longer allowed to even see her mother, you may just want to stick with times and places you and someone that can help protect her are available . . . a cop or security or child services person would be best. Have these visits documented.” Matt sighed. “If the mother is serious about wanting her child, she’ll agree in order to prove she is a good person to take the child. Her lawyer would advise her to do so.” He turned his head as if he could look Bucky straight in the eyes. “Feed the girl before the visit, stay always at hand, and don’t let her accept snacks. Bring bottled water, non-flavored or colored or carbonated, for Ava to drink, and she must come to you for the drink, not take it away with her. Is that clear?”

Finally, with a shrug, he said, “of course, if it’s easier to tell Ava she can’t visit with Rebecca at all, you can choose that path, too. The courts would not fault you with the mother’s history.”

“I’ll think about it . . . the next scheduled visit is in two days,” Bucky murmured pulling his legs closer to his body.

“Cancel that one, but not the next. This is perfectly acceptable when the woman came, unannounced, to your house. That would be expected, in fact, to get the message across that you set the visits, not her,” Matt ordered. “Then, when you’ve had time to think, you can determine if you wish to cancel any others. Explain to Ava that this one was cancelled because her mother broke the rules, and everyone’s supposed to follow the rules.”

Nodding, Bucky rested his chin on his knees.

Steve slid his arm around Bucky for a firm hug. “We can do that, right, Bucky? Ava knows about canceling things because of breaking the rules. If you want, I can tell her?” Concentrating on Ava helped pull Steve out of his self-derisive funk.

“We’ll tell her together,” Bucky muttered, not pulling away but also not leaning into Steve’s embrace.

“Foggy, our Detective Wilson has been listening quietly, but please use him. Get whatever he can give you. Should I go down and look in on the kids, to make a preliminary evaluation?” Matt smiled softly.

“Sure,” Foggy shrugged, he turned to Sam.

The detective nodded and rose to his feet. “I can do that. I’ve got access to all the files you’re interested in, including those that Steve was going to copy. I can get you certified police copies.”

“That would be great,” Foggy nodded.

With a nod, Matt turned back to the men on the bed. “I won’t talk to the children tonight, James. You need rest and I’d rather you were there for everything. Shall I come back tomorrow or the next day?”

“Tomorrow should be fine,” Bucky answered.

Steve slid out of the bed to show the three men out. He watched as Sam put away his own notebook, having apparently taken notes about Becca’s encounter with Bucky outside. “I’ll be back soon, Buck. Let me show them out and get the kids ready for bed.”

“Okay,” Bucky muttered.

The blond guided all three into the hall and down the steps. As the lawyers, then the contractors, left, Steve took Sam’s arm. “Stay a minute, Sam?” He swung Kevin up into his arms absently, reaching for Ava’s hand. The blond never looked at the mess that would need cleaning in the other room.

Turning to look at the tall blond, Sam asked, “what can I do for you, Steve?”

“Well,” Steve cleared his throat. “It’s kind of a secret right now, okay?” He pulled Ava’s hand tight to his hip, his worry evident in his nervous movements.

“Okay . . .” Sam looked curiously apprehensive.

“Well, I wanna know if I should get a ring first or wait until I ask? I mean, what if he says no?” Steve rushed in without full explanation.

“Whoa . . . take a breather,” Sam smiled softly, shaking his head, you wanna ask Bucky to marry you?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, biting his lip. “I really wanna be with him forever.”

“That’s great, Steve,” Sam smiled brighter, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“I know that we aren’t . . . you know, but hearing that tonight, made me realize just how much _he_ had withheld that promise and that love? I don’t want Bucky feeling that way. Even if he refuses, I want him to _know_ l love him and want to be with him, you know? Bucky knows,” he found himself explaining once more, like he did with Nat, “that I’m Catholic. I don’t believe in divorce.”

“Well, get the ring, take him out on a nice dinner, just the two of you and ask him, then. You’ve been dating for long enough.” Sam offered with a reassuring smile.

“We’ve actually never had a real date, Sam,” Steve laughed nervously. “Not with kids and work and stuff, you know?” Taking a breath, Steve asked the even more important question. “Do I wait until this mess is over? I don’t want to over stress him.” Steve was careful not to mention what the mess was, letting the kids, whom he was quite aware of, think he referred to Bucky’s health.

Sam seemed to think for a moment before nodding, “waiting until this clears out might not be a bad idea.”

“Right, get a ring, arrange a nice date, but wait until this clears.” Steve sighed and smiled beautifully. “Do . . . do you think he’ll say yes?” Steve whispered, hopeful and scared.

Laughing, Sam nodded, “of course he’s gonna say yes, Steve. That guy loves you so much. I literally think he believes you are God’s gift to this Earth.”

“God, I hope not,” Steve chuckled nervously. “I’d hate to let him down. Hanging the moon would be a hard miracle enough.” Steve suddenly gave Ava’s hand a gentle yank. “Wanna piggy back up the stairs, Pumpkin?” He smiled at his friend. “Thanks, Sam. Really. If you need me to sign off for the papers, just bring down the forms.”

“Anytime,” Sam nodded and turned to walk down the front steps, over his shoulder her called, something Bucky had told him five years ago, “don’t let him get away, Steve.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Steve waited for Sam to leave the gated yard then set the alarms. He shut and locked the door, setting those alarms, too. “Ready, Pumpkin?” He still had Kevin on one hip, the boy asleep with his face pressed to Steve’s side.

“I can walk, Steve,” Ava said gently, not upset.

“Okay, another time then, right?” He gave her a wide grin. He never thought to tell Ava to keep it a secret, figuring she’d heard him tell Sam the proposal was a secret. Thus, the man led the child upstairs. “Bath or shower tonight? Or are you waiting till tomorrow?”

“Can I wait until the morning, I’m sleepy,” Ava yawned, trudging up the steps.

“Sure. I need to strip your bed anyway. I’ll do the laundry tomorrow, so you can hold off the shower tonight. Mind if Kevin gets one tomorrow, too? I’ll change his pull up, but I think he’s too tired to hold his head above the bath water.”

“That’s fine,” Ava conceded and opened the door to her bedroom that she shared with Kevin.

Nodding, Steve walked in, taking the boy to the bathroom and changing him deftly into fresh pull up and pajamas. He then lay the child next to Ava and kissed his forehead. Leaning over, Steve placed a hand on Ava’s tummy and kissed her forehead. “You’ve been so good today. Mind if I add babysitting to your work done list for today?”

“Okay,” Ava said sleepily, her eyes slipping shut, she let out another yawn.

“Great, we’ll discuss payment tomorrow,” he tucked them in, turned the light off but the night light on, and left, the door still partly open.

Steve walked into Bucky’s room and looked at the man in the bed.

Bucky had curled up on the bed, back to the door, his eyes were still open but they stared lifelessly at the opposite wall.

“Buck?” Steve called softly, not wanting to wake the man if he’d drifted off. The tall blond walked quietly into the room. “You okay there, Sweetheart?”

“No,” Bucky answered honestly, he didn’t turn to look at Steve. “Why is this happening, Steve?”

The man slid onto the bed and sighed, pulling the blanket back and sliding under, despite still being dressed. He wrapped an arm around his lover. “Because we’re happy together and Murphy hates happy couples?” he ventured, his tone quite serious.

“I don’t get it. We try and try and try. But none of it’s good enough. Rumlow was enough pain for both of us to last a lifetime. What did we do to deserve this?” Bucky’s voice came out as a whisper, his eyes still staring at the wall.

With a sigh, Steve leaned over to kiss Bucky’s neck gently. “I don’t know why good people suffer, Buck. Want me to pray over it? I can add questions to my prayers just as easy.”

“God abandoned me a long time ago, Steve,” Bucky stated, his tone didn’t sound pained, simply matter-of-fact.

“No, he didn’t,” Steve said with certainty in his voice.

“Yes, he did,” Bucky muttered.

“No, he didn’t,” Steve countered. “I can prove it.” He sounded so positive.

Finally, Bucky turned to look at Steve, he didn’t say anything, simply waited for his lover to continue. 

“If God had abandoned you,” Steve pointed out calmly “Ava would have died in that fire. Instead, God asked you to look out for her.”

Bucky shook his head, turning back to look at the wall, “only to take her away from me eight years later?”

“Not to take her away, Bucky, to make you prove you want to keep her,” Steve shot back, touching Bucky’s shoulder. “I think God is testing you to make sure _you’re_ certain about keeping her.”

“Make me prove . . .” Bucky snapped, he wrenched away from Steve and shot out of bed, his medication and the sudden movement making him dizzy.

The blond reached out to steady his lover. “Whoa, take it easy, Bucky.” He frowned, worried.

Stumbling out of Steve’s reach, Bucky used the dresser to support his weight. “Make me prove I want to keep her? Fuck, Steve! I ran into a fucking burning building to save her! I raised her, loved her, made sure she had everything she wanted! And what? This is some _test_? Fuck that,” Bucky growled and moved on unstable legs to walk out of the room.

Steve sighed and bowed his head. He didn’t even try to call Bucky back to finish what he’d been trying to explain. Instead, he reached for his pajamas then hesitated. The living room still needed cleaning. Steve left the bedroom and walked downstairs to begin quietly straightening up the mess. He began working around his boyfriend, without a word, not wanting to make things worse, like he seemed to always do.

Bucky sat on the couch, his head in his hands, looking up, he saw Steve cleaning. “Leave it until the morning, Steve.”

Immediately, Steve stopped straightening. He put the stack of plates back down and nodded. “I only meant you kept questioning if you were the right one for her, so God was making you show _yourself_ how much you belong together. I’m sorry I’m so stupid with words, Buck.” He walked out.

Growling, Bucky used the wall to help him follow Steve into the kitchen, “stop cleaning, baby. I’ll get it in the morning.”

Steve let his head hang, hands freezing on the dishes. He shook a bit then nodded. “Okay,” he said, softly.

Leaning against the counter, Bucky said quietly, “you’re not stupid with words - - I . . . I’m just stressed out right now. I’m sorry I got upset . . . I had no right to talk to you like that.”

Nodding, Steve looked up, eyes washed with tears but they hadn’t fallen yet. He reached out, hesitantly, for Bucky. “I’m scared Rumlow’s gonna mess this up again . . . that my past is gonna screw things over for you and Ava . . .” he dropped his hand.

“I won’t let that happen, Steve. If I have to fight to the last breath for my little girl, I will. But I also am fighting for _you_. Rumlow doesn’t have power over you anymore, Steve, and I’ll prove to everyone that he lied about you . . . that he’s a lying son-of-a-bitch.”

Steve opened his mouth then closed it and nodded. He hung his head. “I love you, Bucky,” he whispered.

“I love you, too . . . we’re gonna get through this . . . just like we’ve always done - - together.” Bucky said, he still leaned against the counter, but his steel blue eyes hardened with determination.

Steve slid sideways, closer, in a manner that said he’d back off if asked. “Together,” he repeated softly. He reached out his hand to take Bucky’s, trembling slightly. “Always together.”

Offering his boyfriend a happy, tired smile, Bucky nodded and said, “let’s go to bed, punk.”

Steve returned the smile, shoulders relaxing once more. “Yeah . . . let’s go to bed, jerk.” He squeezed Bucky’s hand reassuringly, feeling secure in his place once more.


	13. Outbursts, Punishment, and Pain

Things seemed to be in a holding pattern for the next week and a half. No disruptive visits or calls, not troubling alarms. The new room was finished and the contractors left the fence, their costs well within reason, as Steve pointed out. The lawyer for Becca had served Bucky’s lawyers with his client’s case and vice-versa. Steve volunteered four hours a day for five days a week at the clinic and came back talking glowingly about Wade, the burn victim that was still holed up there after five years, and Pepper, the banker, and Peter and his aunt May, who were moving on very soon into their own place at last. Kevin had not yet had another seizure and Ava seemed to only throw a tantrum once every three days, and often about Kevin being in the way more or less.

Finally, the day dawned where they could move Kevin into his own room, though Steve hesitated to slide the heavy bed in its box out of the art room. Instead, he stood there, frowning, staring at the boxed furniture as Ava supposedly boxed Kevin’s toys in her room.

Bucky walked into the art room, tying his hair into a loose bun, “Ava and I have to leave in twenty minutes for the visit with Becca.”

“Okay,” Steve frowned, sounding troubled.

Catching the tone, Bucky frowned, “what’s wrong? I thought you said I should do the supervised visits? Should I cancel instead?”

“What?” He looked over, “No! It’s a great idea. Matt was right. It shows we’re not trying to keep Ava from Becca totally. We look reasonable and cooperative. Do the visits!” He offered a small smile to Bucky.

“Then what is the matter?” Bucky asked again.

“Oh,” Steve sighed and looked back at the boxes. “I was just thinking, we’re gonna be moving a six year old down stairs by himself? We sleep up here, like Ava.”

Looking around the room, Bucky sighed softly, “you can use the addition as your studio? We can move Kevin in here?”

Steve looked surprised and turned to Bucky. “I was thinking we could move down there. Do you think it’s a better idea to move the studio? I’d have to arrange to build shelves in there. These are amazing!” He bit his lip, worry in his eyes as he weighed the idea.

“But then we’d be separate from both the kids? I mean, when they’re older that sounds amazing - - but what if Kevin has a nightmare or Ava needs something?” Bucky started rambling.

Steve suddenly enfolded Bucky in a hug. “Thank you for understanding!” He grinned, “and for coming up with a great idea, since mine would have stunk, too.” He kissed Bucky’s forehead.

“Yeah, well, what can I say . . . one of us has to have the brains, punk,” Bucky teased lightly.

“Yeah, but one of us has to be the muscle, too, jerk,” Steve shot back playfully. “I’ll ask the Odinsons in to add windows along the side for light and put in shelves, They can help me move the studio while I’m at it.”

Pausing a moment, Steve asked softly, “Buck, would you want us to move into here? It’d be amazing with the sunrise to . . .” he flushed, gesturing to the bank of windows on the present studio. At this rate, Steve would be suggesting everyone swap rooms around.

“Whatever you want, Stevie, just as long as we’re on the same floor as the kids,” Bucky smiled; he loved seeing his boyfriend this excited about something.

“I’ll get Kevin,” Steve said, suddenly radiating happiness. The blond stepped into the hall, “Hey, Ava, what do you think? If you were just moving in the first time, which of the bedrooms, or my studio, would you prefer to have for a bedroom?” Ava’s was currently the small bedroom, and Steve felt it was fair to give her a chance at the master bedroom if they’d be swapping or the great windows of the studio if she wanted.

Looking around her room, decorated just for her, Ava bit her lip in thought. “Uncle Bucky’s room is very _big_ . . . but your studio has the windows . . .”

Steve peeked in her room, smiling and practically vibrating in excitement, He absolutely adored decorating and art stuff. “I can make the studio into a bedroom either for you or for me and Bucky. You choose.” He grinned. “We’re putting the studio downstairs instead, so everyone can sleep on the same floor.” He was wise enough not to make it sound like they thought the kids needed watching. “Whichever you choose, I can help you decorate it. Might even need new curtains and paint?”

“Can I paint the studio pink?” Ava asked, beaming happily.

“If you choose it to be your room, yes,” he confirmed. “We’ll finish the downstairs studio and move the studio down there, then finish your room, and move you in there then fix up Kevin’s room around him. Of course, if you want your old room, we can go with that,” Steve bounced on his heels.

“I like the studio, I can see the kitties that run around from the windows,” Ava nodded, as if she made up her mind.

“Okay, we’ll pick out curtains and paint and rug later. Ready to go see your Mom?” Steve backed into the hall and shot Bucky a wide smile. He took out his phone so he could arrange for the Odinsons to change the new studio a bit.

“C’mon, Squirt,” Bucky called out from the doorway of Ava’s room, “let’s get going.”

*************

Securing the door and gate after letting the Odinsons in once more, Steve scooped up Kevin and grinned. “Wanna help me move things today?”

“Okay, My Steve,” the platinum haired six year old agreed readily.

Carrying the boy to the middle of Bucky’s large bed, Steve carefully tumbled the boy onto the bouncy mattress, eliciting giggles from the kid. Smiling, Steve launched himself to the bed and began lightly tickling Kevin, who writhed and screamed in laughter, which Steve echoed.

After a few minutes of playing, they both began to pant, catching their breaths, tangled together on the comforter. Steve glanced at his watch and smiled. Bucky and Ava should be back in a couple of hours, then he could begin planning how to decorate the rooms with his family. Steve lay his head down next to Kevin’s and grinned, watching the boy giggle to himself.

The house seemed to shake with the loud echoing of the front door being wrenched open and then consequently slammed shut. Then loud, stomping footsteps could be heard on the hardwood flooring, followed by the opening and closing of the door again.

Lifting his head with a soft frown, Steve stood and walked to the doorway of the master bedroom. “Hello? Buck? You guys home already?”

“Ava!” Bucky called out, his voice tense and shaking with anger, “Ava! Stop!”

“Ava?” Steve looked for the girl, frowning more. “Something wrong? What happened?” He left Kevin on the bed and moved into the hallway.

Whirling around to face her uncle from where she stood in the middle of the living room, “no! I hate you! You’re trying to take me away from mom!” she yelled, her fists clenched tightly by her sides.

Steve walked over to the steps, watching the pair, eyes troubled.

“That is not what is happening!” Bucky exclaimed, trying to keep his temper in check. “If you’d let me - -”

“No!” Ava screamed, “you’re a liar! You lie to everyone! Just leave me alone!”

“Ava?” Steve called, “Buck? What’s going on?”

Ava whirled around to look at Steve; her eyes red with tears, and she looked livid. “Uncle Bucky is a liar and I hate him!”

“Uncle Bucky isn’t a lair, Ava,” Steve said, calmly. “What’d he say that made you think so?” Kevin slid off the bed and came out of the master suite, watching with large grey eyes.

Bucky stepped closer; he tried to reach out in an attempt to calm his niece down, but she shoved him forcibly away, making him stumble back a few steps. “No! You’re not my dad! You’re just my stupid Uncle Bucky, and I hate you!”

“Ava, Pumpkin, calm down! You don’t mean that.” Steve reached for the girl. “What happened? What’d Uncle Bucky say?” He shot a desperate look at Bucky, trying to communicate that he wanted to help.

Storming up the stairs, Ava looked down from the top landing and shouted, “yes I do! He’s a liar and I hate him!”

“Why do you think he lied?” Steve asked desperately, kneeling down to be on the angry girl’s level.

“He lied to mom! He said that he’d give me back to mom when she got better! But he’s not! He’s a liar!” Ava shouted, face red and body shaking.

Steve reached out for the girl. “Who said your Mom was better, Ava?”

“Mom did! The doctors are letting her go home! But stupid Uncle Bucky won’t let me be with her!”

“Ava, Pumpkin,” Steve tried to pull her in for a hug, “Uncle Bucky’s trying to take care of you. He’s trying to protect you. There’s a lot of bad people, and Bucky has to make sure none of them come. But that doesn’t mean . . .”

“Mom isn’t bad like the man with the boxes! She’s not!” Ava shook her head frantically.

“Man with the boxes?” Steve felt confused.

“Ava!” Bucky snapped from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs, “go to your room, right now!”

Steve let the girl go so she could obey her uncle.

Whirling around, she stomped down the remainder of the hallway into her room.

Kevin ran after Ava and offered her a hopeful smile. “My Ava?” He moved into their shared room and stepped to the closet, grabbing for her stuffed dog to bring to her. “Play?”

Once inside her room, she whirled on the little boy. “I don’t want to play with you, you stupid baby!” she shouted and shoved the boy into the closet, slamming the door behind him.

From the other side of the door came a very soft, tear-filled whisper. “Okay, bad Kevin.”

Hearing the slam, Steve sprinted to the door of Ava’s room to make sure neither kid got hurt. His voice sounded alarmed. “Ava? Where’s Kevin?”

Bucky took the steps two at a time, following close behind Steve. Running into Ava’s room, Bucky looked around and couldn’t see the little boy.

“Ava, where’s Kevin?” Steve ran in and began looking around. “What fell?”

“Bad Kevin,” the small voice came from the closet on a quiet sob, over and over.

Gasping softly, Bucky opened the closet door.

The boy had curled into fetal position, hugging himself, tears streaming freely as he rocked. He’d wet and messed his pull up in his fear and confusion. “Bad Kevin.”

“No . . . no . . .” Bucky cooed and scooped up the little boy.

“My God!” Steve ran to the closet but backed out of Bucky’s way. “Our bathroom, Buck,” he said.

“You like him more than me! I hate you!” Ava called after her retreating uncle; Bucky didn’t even look at his niece, too afraid he’d say something he’d regret. Instead he hung his head and carried the crying boy into the master bedroom.

Steve whirled around in the doorway to her bedroom. His face looked sad and very disappointed. “Ava, you hurt Kevin . . . and that . . . I didn’t think you’d ever hurt anyone!” His voice was soft.

“I hate him!” Ava shouted, tears streaming down her face, “he ruins everything!”

“Ava, sit,” Steve pointed to her desk, eyes narrowed, but voice calm and soft.

Listening to Steve, Ava slumped into her chair with crossed arms, “Mom gave me her phone number! I’m going to live with her!”

“Want help packing?” Steve asked calmly, going over to the closet and pulling her duffel from the top shelf.

Eyes widening slightly, Ava sobbed and hugged herself tighter, “Uncle Bucky is a liar!”

“I understand. Everyone lies. It’s not right, but they do.” He didn’t dispute that Bucky had been lying to her. Steve opened a drawer and began putting her underthings in the bag.

“You can come live with me and mom, Steve!” Ava exclaimed.

“Maybe,” he said softly, sounding doubtful, “but your mother scares me, Ava. I think I’d rather live with a liar than her.”

“My mom isn’t scary! She’s not like the man with the boxes!” Ava’s lip trembled and she let out another loud sob.

Again the references to a guy with boxes. He’d have to ask Bucky to clarify about that later. Instead, he looked at Ava and sighed. “Well, let me think. She hurt you and your Uncle Bucky. So she scares me.”

“She never hurt us! Uncle Bucky lies, Steve!” Ava pouted, hiccoughing between sobs.

“Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t, but his body can’t lie. Those scars are the truth, Ava. He got them in the fire.” Steve went back to packing, trying to hide how his hands shook.

“That was an accident! He said so!” Ava shouted.

“Yeah, I guess he lied about that so you wouldn’t be afraid of your Mom.” Steve finally sat on the bed near Ava’s chair. He looked at her. “But I saw the police papers. Your Mom got so confused after your dad died in a fire, that she set the fire, thinking that you three would be together again. Bucky pulled you out. He went back for your Mom but got hurt. By then your dad’s friends ran in to save your Mom and Uncle. So, when the police figured out what happened, they realized your mother was sick and your Uncle loved you enough to run into a fire to get you. So, you got to live with Uncle Bucky.” The blond kept looking at Ava, gaze never wavering. “Now, she’s better and can leave the hospital, but the police and the doctors aren’t sure she should raise a child, because she might get sick again. That’s why Matt and Foggy keep coming over. To help figure out if she can raise you or not. Bucky’s been trying to help them figure it out.”

Ava’s eyes widened and she shook her head wildly, letting out shaky, wet sobs.

Steve wrapped the girl in his arms and cuddled her, rocking gently. “If you want, I can show you the police papers. The police don’t lie, you know.” He’d never told her about Jack, and hoped she never had to find out . . . at least until she was old enough to understand that bad guys were even in the police and fire services. “But I would think you’d believe _me_. I don’t lie to you, Ava, do I?”

Wrapping her arms tightly around Steve, Ava continued to cry until she didn’t have anymore tears, her face red and eyes swollen.

“Bucky told me not to tell you, Pumpkin, because he didn’t want you to be afraid of your Mom, so if she ever got better you could live with her if you wanted to.” He lifted her chin and began using his shirt tail to dry her face and clean her snotty nose. “But I guess you’re old enough for the whole story now, baby. I’m sorry. It’s not a pretty one. Your Uncle wanted you to love your Mom . . . but in the end, he’s the knight of this story.” The blond hugged the brunet child. “Do you want me to help you finish packing? You can borrow my phone to call your Mom if you want to?” He felt rather sure the child would refuse this time.

Bucky stood in the doorway, Kevin sleeping on the brunet’s bed; he looked at the pair with wide, terrified eyes. Steve hadn’t even asked if it was okay . . . and offering to let Ava use his phone to call her mother?

Gently, Steve wiped her eyes again. “Ava, you need to tell me what you want to do, baby.”

“I wanna stay here . . . with you,” Ava mumbled, voice shaky.

He didn’t push for her to add Bucky yet, just nodding. “Okay. Well, you’ll be in your room all night, you know. I know you were upset, but locking Kevin in the closet was very mean. So, you’re still being punished.” He stood and shut the underwear drawer without neatening it. He then headed for the door, still carrying the bag, but froze at the sight of Bucky.

“Kitchen,” Bucky snapped and then turned to walk down the hall, not saying anything else.

Nodding without a word, Steve let himself from the room, softly shutting the girl’s door. Steve walked down the steps and into the kitchen, dropping the bag on the island. He turned to face Bucky, not hanging his head.

Bucky paced in the room, right hand gripping his left arm very tightly, “what the fuck, Steve? You didn’t even ask me if that was okay?”

He sighed and shook his head, agreeing, “I know. I didn’t have time to ask. Ava said her mother gave her a phone number. And she was threatening to call Becca to come get her. I thought if she got out in the night, we’d . . .”

Shaking his head, Bucky’s nails dug into his arm and he growled, “I know she may like you more than me, but I’m still her legal guardian, Steve! Fuck!” The brunet seethed and started pacing again, his words coming out in a rush.

“I did what I thought would help, Bucky. She kept saying her mother was good, not you. She said something about a bad guy with boxes? She made me frightened she’d run away and go back to her mother!” Steve shook his head, lifting his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I didn’t think to ask, because I was trying to stop her. I would have told you after I calmed her down.”

Swallowing hard, Bucky took a deep breath; he didn’t release his arm, but he stopped pacing. “I should’ve told you about the delivery guy.” Bucky sighed and closed his eyes, hanging his head.

“Delivery guy?” Steve looked confused. He didn’t think Bucky had forgiven him for such a serious breach yet, but this was a change . . . and Steve waited to see why Bucky felt it was significant.

“That day you got called in for Pepper . . . the day we got all of Kevin’s things . . . one of the delivery men was a registered sex offender.” Bucky flinched.

“What!” Steve straightened, looking shocked and worried. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Looking up at Steve with pained eyes, Bucky explained, “Kevin had his seizure and - - and I didn’t think it was important . . . no one got hurt or anything.”

“Before his seizure, I talked to you on the phone and asked if everything was okay. You said it was.” Steve’s voice dropped to a soft, calm tone, like it had with Ava earlier.

“You were at work, Steve! What was I supposed to do? Nothing happened . . . Thor got him off the property and called the police,” Bucky desperately tried to explain himself.

“You handled it, right? Got the guy outta here?” Steve asked softly, calmly. “But you thought that telling me after everything was taken care of would . . . what? Make me come running, because you had it all handled?”

“Nothing happened, Steve! He didn’t get anywhere near the kids . . . I didn’t see a reason to worry you.” Bucky looked up at Steve.

Steve shook his head, lifting one hand to run over the back of his neck. “So you said, repeatedly. So why, if nothing was wrong, nothing happened, did you feel it was necessary to tell me nothing about it? Why’d you lie to me about this?”

“I - - I didn’t lie . . . everything _was_ fine! I’m - - I’m not a liar, Steve,” Bucky’s eyes shone with tears.

“No . . . no you’re not. Not when it’s protecting someone else, are you? My mistake.” Steve turned and took a bottle of water from the fridge, calmly opening it, then taking a very long, quiet drink. “No, Bucky, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a liar.”

He turned, bottle half empty, clutched tightly enough in one hand that the water nearly spilled over the top. “But you kept it from me. You know, I get it. I really do. You kept something from me because you can handle it on your own.” His voice rose, slightly, not a lot, but his voice stayed calm. “I mean, I expect you to keep things from me. Everyone always has. They’ve always lied or hidden things to _protect_ me. But something this serious, Bucky?” his voice rose to a shout, “So, I could keep a fucking eye out if the bastard tried to come back while you or Thor weren’t here to point him the fuck out!” He threw the bottle into the sink, water splashing all over, and headed out of the kitchen.

Completely taken aback from Steve’s outburst, Bucky stumbled back before following Steve out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“For the first time in five years, Bucky, I feel like hitting someone,” he growled and jabbed the security codes into the security system. “You volunteering?” Steve stormed from the house, down their walkway, and out the gate, letting it slam behind him with a reverberating clang.

Bucky watched him with wide eyes, tears finally running down his cheeks. Had Steve just threatened to _hit_ him? Steve had only hit him one time, back when Bucky had told the blond he loved him in high school. By the look he’d seen in Steve’s eyes, Bucky had gotten extremely close to being punched . . . by Steve Rogers.

Shutting the front door, Bucky didn’t even punch in the security codes, letting the house go unarmed for the first time in five years. Dazed, the brunet walked back into the kitchen, his knees buckling as he crossed into the room. He slid to the ground, water soaking his jeans from where Steve had thrown the bottle. He clawed at his arm until he felt blood run freely down his forearm, mixing with the pooled water, and he simply laid there, too numb and hurt to move.


	14. Cut off One Head, Two More Shall Take Its Place

It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually a feeling of a damp cloth wrapping over his bloody sleeve came to him. Another damp cloth had been laid over Bucky’s head, draped really, dripping slightly. A soft pat came to Bucky’s hip then a small, warm body snuggled up against him and remained quiet and still. Bucky curled around the heat source but didn’t move to get up.

Even more time passed before a sound of heavy footsteps came slowly into the house, paused, then moved towards the kitchen. Freezing, Steve looked down at Kevin and Bucky, confusingly draped in towels, lying on the kitchen floor in the increasing twilight. He leaned down and removed the towel from where he guessed Bucky’s head would be. “Buck?” Steve’s voice was soft, ashamed and small.

When the man didn’t react, Steve bit his lip and removed the other towel, eyes opened wide at the mess revealed. He scooped up his boyfriend and carried him up the stairs, leaving Kevin sleeping on the kitchen floor. Instead, he took Bucky to the master bed and lay him down. He reached into the bed stand, removed the key for the medicine chest, and went to the bathroom, retrieving medicine and first aid supplies.

Softly, Steve returned, gave Bucky a shot of strong sedative so he could get some real sleep. then cleaned and dressed the torn up arm, removing the bloody shirt and dropping it on the floor. Finally, he undressed Bucky and slid him under the blankets, tucking him in. He picked up the clothes and remaining supplies and trash and headed into the bathroom to properly put things in their places.

Quietly, Steve went back downstairs and picked up the six year old from the floor. He grabbed a box of cereal and headed upstairs to Ava’s room, letting himself in. “Ava?” Steve could barely be heard, tears in his eyes. “Want some _Coco Puffs_?”

“I didn’t leave the room, Steve,” Ava said softly from where she lay on the bed. She had no idea of the shape her uncle had been in.

Nodding, Steve came into the room and sat Kevin on her bed. He handed her the box of sweetened cereal. “I know. Ava, Pumpkin, even if you’re being punished, if someone doesn’t come to feed you your meals, check to see if we need help? Okay?”

“Okay,” she answered and took the box of cereal, eating the chocolate cereal straight out of the box.

“Share with Kevin, Baby?” Steve asked gently. “Make sure he doesn’t choke, okay?”

Grabbing a handful of the food, she offered it to the little boy with a small smile, “I’m sorry I put you in the closet, Kevin.”

“Good Kevin?” the boy asked hopefully, reaching for the food.

“Yeah, you’re good,” Ava muttered, cheeks reddened with shame.

“His mom used to leave him in the closet and go out for days,” Steve explained in a small voice. “That’s why Kevin shouldn’t be put in the closet.” He sighed and moved towards the door. “We should have told you.”

“Where’s Uncle Bucky, Steve?” She asked, voice thick with sadness.

“Uncle Bucky’s sleeping in his bedroom, Pumpkin.” He looked at her. “We were both pretty mean to him, so he got sick. I put him to bed and gave him medicine.”

“I heard the door slam . . . I thought he’d come into the room but he didn’t.” Ava handed another handful of cereal to Kevin who took it happily, eating hungrily.

“No, he didn’t. He got so sick, he fell in the kitchen,” Steve explained. “But I wasn’t here so I didn’t know.” He looked at the floor. “That’s why if one of us doesn’t come to feed you on time, you check if maybe we need help?” Steve looked up at her.

“I’ll apologize to him when he wakes up,” Ava stated, eyes downcast, feeling horrible for what she’d said to Bucky.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. You know, he loves you so much, it really hurt him when you got angry and screamed those things.” He sighed. “I got angry, too. I’ll have to make sure he knows I’m sorry.” Steve wiped his arm across his eyes to brush away his tears and headed out the door.

In the hall, Steve pulled out his phone and dialed Nat’s number.

“Hello?” Natasha answered after the second ring.

Voice breaking this time, though still small and scared, Steve said, “Nat? Can you come get the kids?”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She sounded very concerned.

“No, me and Bucky had a big fight and he collapsed and tore his arm real bad. He’s sedated in his room, but I don’t think I can care for him and the kids, too. I need help, Nat.” By the end of his statement, his voice had dropped to a bare whisper and he scrubbed at his eyes again.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Nat answered firmly and hung up the phone.

“Okay,” he whispered despite the fact that she’d already hung up. Steve slipped his phone into his pocket.

Exactly ten minutes later a loud knock pounded on the door.

Steve dialed Nat’s phone number and waited.

“Is the door unlocked?” Nat’s voiced answered.

“No. Yes, it’s unlocked but secured.” He texted her the codes, not leaving his post in the hall outside the bedrooms.

Natasha rushed up the steps, looking at Steve with a look of worry mixed with anger, “what happened?”

He turned his pale, tear-streaked face to her. “Ava found out Becca was out, but she fought with Bucky over it. She threatened to run away, so I told her about Becca and the fire. Bucky got pissed, of course. I shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t my place. And then I found out he didn’t tell me about a sex offender that had been at the house a couple weeks ago. So, I lost it. I yelled at him and left.”

“You _left_ him?!” Nat snapped, eyes hardening.

“I left the house because I didn’t want to hit him or the wall, Nat! I was so angry. He never said a word about this guy, and I had no clue to keep an eye out in case he tried coming back.” Steve slid down to the hall floor, burying his head in his arms. “I was stupid and wrong and not thinking.”

“How bad is his arm? Does he need stitches?” Natasha shook her head, her red hair bouncing with the movement.

“I did that for him, Nat, after I sedated him. Brock used to make me sew my own so I didn’t have to go to the hospital.” He kept his face on his arms. “The kids are eating cereal in Ava’s room. She’s on punishment for putting Kevin in the closet and giving him a panic attack.”

Taking a deep breath, Nat nodded and looked at Steve, “Clint and I will take the kids for two days. You will fix this, Steve.”

“Thank you,” Steve interrupted. “I need to sort this out with Bucky!” He looked up, miserable and frightened.

“Yes, you do,” Natasha said firmly and then walked into the children’s room without another word.

Kevin had _Coco Puffs_ in his hair and stuck to his face and hands. He looked up at Nat and smiled. “Hello.” Cereal spread in a pool around him on the comforter.

“Hello,” Nat smiled sweetly, “Ava, sweetie, pack a bag for two nights. You and Kevin are staying with us for a couple nights.”

The shop owner helped the children pack some belongings; she had to go into the kitchen to retrieve Ava’s bag. She eyed the worryingly large pool of blood on the white tile but didn’t say anything.

The entire time Nat worked to help the kids, Steve moved like a zombie, helping as he could, but really more out of it than anything. One would think _he_ was the one on sedatives.

After nearly an hour, Nat hitched Kevin onto her hip and grabbed Ava’s hand. She looked at Steve with an unreadable expression, “fix this, Steve.”

He nodded without a word.

Natasha led the children out of the house and loaded them into her car. She pulled away from the curb, eyes watching the house in the rear-view mirror.

Slowly, Steve locked and secured the door and gate. He began clearing up the mess, knowing Bucky would sleep for a few hours. He started with the water then moved on to scrubbing up the blood. For two hours, Steve scrubbed at the floor before finally determining it was clean enough. He put away the supplies and cleaned up his hands.

The blond walked up the stairs and into the studio. He looked around the boxes of furniture and his temporarily unused supplies. Sighing softly, Steve began to neatly box up his art supplies, taking down his easel and covering the unfinished painting he’d been working on a few days before. He worked in that room for hours, neatly packing everything piece by piece.

Bucky leaned heavily against the door jam, still completely nude, “you - - you came back?” His voice was raspy and meek.

Steve jumped and whirled around, his camel-hair paint brushes falling to the floor, probably damaging half of the delicate brushes. “Bucky, you’re awake. Is your arm hurting? I can find pain meds?”

Frowning, Bucky looked down at his wrapped arm, the forearm aching dully; he looked back at Steve, “you came back,” he repeated, voice cracking.

Swallowing, Steve nodded, flushing. “Yes? When I stopped being angry, I came back.” He hung his head. “I . . . I promised to only leave if you wanted me to, Bucky . . . so . . . uh . . . I thought maybe you’d let me come back?” He knelt and began gathering the brushes, placing them in the box.

Bucky frowned and turned, shuffling down to look into the kid’s room, “where are the kids?”

When Bucky didn’t say anything, Steve wiped at his eyes once more. He stood up and continued packing, dejected and quiet. Softly, he called out, “At Nat’s.”

Nodding softly, Bucky walked down the hall, using the wall to help steady himself, ignoring the stabbing pain that radiated from his left arm. Carefully, taking one step at a time, Bucky walked down stairs.

Steve called after him, “Hungry? I can fix you something if you want?” He paused to listen.

“Coffee,” Bucky grunted in reply, finally making it to the bottom of the stairs, the heavy sedative still making his brain fuzzy.

Nodding, Steve put down his stuff and hurried to beat Bucky to the kitchen, letting the man move at his own pace. He began fixing coffee, then started putting together some toast and eggs for him, too. Steve pulled down the medicine wheel that contained Bucky’s meds and took out his evening dose, laying it on the empty plate. He put Bucky’s med wheel back on the fridge and took down his own, blue colored wheel, to get his own meds out, too.

Finally, Bucky made it into the kitchen; sliding into one of the stools by the island, the brunet whimpered, “I’m sorry, Steve . . . I - - I should’ve told you right away. It wasn’t right for me to keep that from you.”

Steve looked up and watched Bucky with wide, almost haunted eyes. Taking a slow breath, Steve nodded. “I know you can handle these things, Buck. Telling me after things calmed down after the seizure would have been fine. My . . . worry is that if I don’t know, I can’t do anything if I’m the one at the house.” Steve put the eggs and toast on both plates and handed Bucky a fork, along with his vanilla coffee.

Eyes brimming with tears, Bucky looked completely dejected. He pushed around the eggs with his fork. Grabbing his pills, the brunet popped them into his mouth and swallowed them with a small sip of coffee.

“But, I accept your apology. I know you didn’t do it to be mean. I shouldn’t have accused you of doing that . . . of trying to over-protect me or control me. I’m sorry, Bucky. _That_ was mean of me.” He looked up. “And I really should have talked to you about Ava and the fire. I could have locked her in then gone and talked to you.” He sighed. “I try to save the world and solve the problems, and I forget that you’re here, right beside me, to do it with me. I’m not her parent, you are. And I forget that sometimes.”

“I shouldn’t have have gotten so mad . . .” Bucky mumbled, eyes staring at the food. Slowly he brought a small bite of eggs to his lips. His mouth felt dry but he ate the food Steve made all the same.

“After the day you had? I can’t blame you for it. First Ava’s tantrum then Kevin’s panic? It was the wrong time for us to butt heads on things.” Steve reached over and hesitantly put his hand over Bucky’s. “Buck? You know I’d never leave you, right? Unless you told me to? That I only left this afternoon so I could get my temper back under control? I should have told you where I was going.”

Letting the fork drop with a slight clatter, Bucky looked down at his wrapped arm again, “you - - you threatened to hit me,” the brunet’s voice was small and he seemed to curl in on himself.

“What? No! No, Buck, you misunderstood! I was trying to tell you I was hitting mad. I was trying to tell you to back off.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, eyes wide and horrified. “I’d never, never hit you or the kids! I wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . . I wasn’t saying I would hit you! I promise, Buck, I didn’t mean it that way!”

Bucky’s fingers twitched and his hand moved to his bandage, “okay . . . I believe you,” he said quietly.

Steve still looked horrified. His voice went smaller. “I know what it’s like to be hit and threatened. I’d never, ever do that!” He hesitated, reached for Bucky, then stopped, unsure what he should do, what Bucky wanted or even needed.

“Where’d you go?” Bucky’s voice came out barely above a whisper.

“To the clinic physical therapy gym. Wade and I hit bags until I calmed down. Then Pepper and me met with Tony, but that didn’t work out so well. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Tony finally kicked me out and said to go home. So I did.”

Bucky instantly pushed away from the island, the stool tumbling to the floor as he stumbled out of the kitchen. The brunet went back upstairs and into his room. He walked into the bedroom and straight to the master bath, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Watching Bucky, unsure how to help mend things, Steve slowly bent and straightened the stool. He cleaned up the dishes and slowly walked up the stairs. Steve heard the door shut and he dropped his head. He walked to Ava’s room to strip the bed and clean up the cereal mess.

Bucky collapsed in a heap on the tile floor, back sliding against the wall opposite of the door. Of course Steve went to Pepper. Why would someone as beautiful as Steve want someone like Bucky when he could have someone like Pepper? He looked down at his left arm and sobbed, unwrapping the bandages. He looked down at the very neat, clean stitches and sobbed again. People were better off without him . . . he couldn’t do anything right.

Bucky’s phone jangled from his bedside table in the other room.

The brunet ignored it, just continued to stare at his arm.

A knock came on the door. “Bucky? You okay? You missed a call?” Steve sounded worried, calm and concerned.

“I don’t care,” Bucky mumbled, he ran his thumb over the stitches on his arm, pressing down lightly to cause the wound to flare and burn.

“You don’t care?” Steve frowned. “Do I need to break down that door?”

Not saying anything, Bucky look down as he broke open one of the stitches, causing a small trickle of blood to run down his arm and drip onto to white tile.

“Bucky!” Steve banged again. “I said, _‘do I need to break down the door’_?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sobbed, “I’m sorry for being such a fuck-up! For being a liar!”

“Okay,” Steve answered, puzzled and worried. “So, come out and we can work on it together. I’m a fuck-up, too, Sweetheart.”

Sobbing harder, Bucky wrapped his arms around himself, ignoring the blood that smeared across his torso, the movement causing a few more of the stitches to rip open.

“Fine,” Steve said and threw his shoulder against the door, hard. He did it a couple more times, breaking the bolt in the lock. Pushing the door awkwardly away. Seeing what Bucky was doing, Steve grabbed him and shook him, hard. “What the fuck?! Bucky! Are you trying to kill yourself?” He pulled the man to the toilet to sit so he could try to salvage the arm.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky cried, repeating the words over and over again.

Steve shot him an exasperated, worried frown. “You’re sorry. I’m sorry. We’re all fucking sorry. So, we work on it. Bucky, c’mon, don’t keep doing this to yourself. I love you. Don’t make me live without you again?” He washed up the arm and studied it to see if he could stitch it up again or if he’d need a doctor this time.

“I love you . . . I love you,” Bucky said softly, body trembling.

“I love you, too, Buck,” Steve leaned over to kiss his forehead. He moved his lips to Bucky’s neck. “Please,” he whispered in Bucky’s ear. “Talk to me, Sweetheart. How can I help? What can I do?” He began carefully stitching, kissing Bucky after each painful prick into the flesh.

“Pepper,” Bucky breathed.

Steve raised his eyes confused. “Pepper? You want pepper?”

“ _You_ want Pepper?” Bucky asked, looked down at his arm, cheeks flushed.

Shaking his head, Steve answered, “Not really. I prefer salt.” He made the last stitch and tied it off.

Bucky shook his head, “No, Steve. Pepper from the clinic . . .”

Sitting back on his heels, now totally confused, Steve asked, “why would I want Pepper from the clinic?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk about her all the time,” Bucky couldn’t force himself to look at Steve.

Lifting his eyebrows, Steve answered without thinking, “Because she isn’t you?” He shook his head. “You normally don’t mind if I talk about my patients? I mean, a couple months ago, it was _‘Scott this and Scott that,’_ I’m sure, when the Lang kid came in?” He began to wipe the blood carefully away and then started wrapping Bucky’s left arm in clean bandages. “But, if you’d rather me not talk about the patients, I can stop?”

Groaning softly, Bucky shook his head, mind fuzzy and thoughts jumbled, “it’s - - it’s just the _way_ you talk about Pepper. Your - - your eyes light up and - - I’m sorry . . . I’m sounding pathetic.”

“No, not pathetic . . .” Steve spoke slowly, frowning softly. “I wasn’t aware I talked about her different than anyone else, Bucky. She really is only a patient.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded, licking his lips nervously, “I’m - - sorry I thought . . .”

“Thought that I wanted to be with Pepper?” Steve nodded. “Okay, that would be a worry I guess, if I wasn’t gay.” He offered Bucky a soft smile, putting his hands on his lover’s thighs.

“Are you though?” Bucky asked so softly that he didn’t know if his boyfriend would be able to hear the question.

“What?” Steve was surprised, confused by the question.

“Are you gay? Or are you only something that Brock told you to be?” Bucky didn’t sound mad, or angry, he sounded more terrified than anything else.

Stunned by the accusation, Steve dropped his hands from Bucky’s thighs. “What Brock told me to be?” he repeated softly, eyes wide. “You . . . you don’t think I love you?”

“I - - I don’t know . . . Sam - - he told me what you told him. That you aren’t really attracted to anyone. That Brock _told_ you, you were gay . . . that you didn’t come to the realization on your own.” Bucky looked at Steve, eyes searching his lover’s face.

“Sam told you what I told him?” Steve echoed, stunned, trying to recall that conversation. That had been five years ago . . . “Wait, you’ve thought for five years that I don’t love you but I’m staying with you?”

Bucky cringed, “no . . . he - - uh . . . told me the same day as the whole delivery debacle.” The brunet flinched, afraid of upsetting his boyfriend.

“Okay, two weeks ago, you and Sam talked about me and he told you about something I said five years ago?” Steve tried to understand where Bucky was going with this. “And you’ve been worrying about it for two weeks instead of asking me if maybe, I changed my mind in the last five years we’ve been sleeping in the same bed, having sex on a pretty regular basis?” Steve shook his head, eyes still confused.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up . . . what was I supposed to ask, _‘hey, Steve, do you enjoy sleeping with me, or are you just faking it’?_ ”

“How about,” Steve slowly leaned closer and kissed Bucky’s neck, “Hey, Steve, do you enjoy sleeping with me or is there something else we could be doing? How about, Hey Steve I know Rumlow forced you to have sex, so don’t feel like I’m doing the same thing, but I wanna know . . . do you really like it?” He kissed Bucky’s neck again. “Maybe, Hey Steve, if you’re uncomfortable, we should talk, because I want us both happy in the bedroom?” He kissed again.

“Are you happy?” Bucky asked softly.

Sitting back, Steve studied Bucky carefully, looking like he gave the question real thought. Finally, he said, “when we fight, I’m not happy. When you’re sick or scared, I’m not happy. But when you and me make love? Yeah, Bucky, that makes me real happy.”

Smiling softly, Bucky nodded.

“Sam didn’t lie to you, Bucky. We really did talk about that. I was confused and scared and overwhelmed and really regretting having left you back in High School after I shoved you. I knew I was in love with you, but sex? Never really crossed my mind in a real way. Kind of a metaphysical thing? Like, yeah that’d happen, how would it work? But no real thought to it.” He reached out and took Bucky’s hand. “Then Brock came along and introduced me to sex. He introduced me to sex with women, too, and I didn’t much care for that. I hated when Brock did it, though, but there were times, Bucky, when he was gentle and I felt real good. So, yeah, I knew I was gay. I just didn’t know if I would ever really enjoy sex enough to share your joy . . . and slowly, I came to realize that it’s never been bad with you. I kept waiting for the good to go away, but it never has.”

Bucky looked down at his bandaged arm and nodded again.

“So, maybe I talk about Pepper with my eyes lit, but I think it’s more like I admire her and wish I was like her. Not because I wanna run away and have babies with her or anything.” He hesitated, suddenly, as if something crossed his mind that he struggled with talking about.

“What?” Bucky asked softly as he lifted his eyes, “what’s wrong?”

Steve shook his head, looking worried. “I’m . . . I’m not sure if anything is wrong, Buck. It’s got to do with Brock, and I really hate bringing him up.” He sighed. “I’m waiting . . . to hear something about my time from then. But I don’t wanna say anything in case I’m being stupid.”

Shifting on the toilet seat, Bucky opened his mouth to say something.

Bucky’s phone rang again. Steve glanced over at the bedroom, through the door with the broken lock. “Want me to get that for you?”

“Please?” Bucky sighed, wishing he could have more than an hour alone with Steve without being interrupted.

Nodding, Steve scrambled up to get Bucky’s phone. He came back with it and offered it to his lover. “Should I carry you to bed?” he offered, smiling softly.

Bucky looked up at Steve but answered the phone, “hello?”

Riley’s voice came over the line, “Bucky? Steve’s phone is dead, so I thought I’d call you. The DNA results for Kevin came back.”

“DNA?” Bucky asked.

Steve’s eyes widened at the words and he straightened, biting his lip, worried.

“Yeah, didn’t Steve tell you when you first fostered him that DNA was run to see if his mother was really his mother and see if we could find a father, or if he was actually a stolen kid?” Riley asked in a rush. He obviously had more news than _‘nothing came back yet.’_

“Yeah, so did anything come back?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with confused eyes.

“Yes,” Riley said. “The mother is not the lady who had him. But she’s still an unknown. But his DNA matched at the clinic. We found his father.” The man sounded excited, like this was great news.

“Who?” Bucky didn’t want to give up Kevin; he’d actually fallen for the little boy. But he wasn’t about to keep him away from his biological father.

“Your Steve. 99.8 percent match with Steve.” Riley answered, voice happy. “Isn’t that great? Mean, that would place the conception at the time he was with Rumlow, which makes sense since the cops suspected Rumlow of selling Kevin to begin with, but . . .“

Bucky dropped the phone, letting it fall to the floor; he looked up at Steve.

Steve watched Bucky apprehensively.

Using the counter to stand up, Bucky walked into the bedroom, over to the closet, and began pulling out some clothes. He had to use the wall to balance as he shakily got dressed.

“Bucky?” Steve stood, ignoring the phone, and followed Bucky. “Was it about Kevin? Is . . . is everything okay? You said DNA?”

“Congratulations, you have a bouncing baby boy, Steve,” Bucky snapped, pulling on his shoes.

“What?” Steve went pale. “He . . . he’s really mine?” Steve sank against the wall.

“99.8 percent,” Bucky scowled and headed out of the bedroom, hurrying into the hall.

Steve followed him, sprinting to keep up. “Bucky?”

“What else are you hiding from me?” Bucky growled, whirling around to face his boyfriend. With a bitter laugh, he added, “You are such a fucking hypocrite!”

“Hypocrite?” Steve shook his head. “I . . . we were just talking about this . . . I told you I didn’t feel right talking about it . . . thought maybe Brock lied . . .”

“So you kept it from me? How long have you suspected Kevin was yours?” Bucky was seething, fingers twitching by his sides.

“That Kevin might be mine? I suspected when Tony handed him to me. He said . . .” Steve tried desperately to make Bucky understand, “he said she accused Brock of selling Kevin to her when he was a baby. I thought you knew about that?”

“When the fuck have you told me that?! You’re always at the damn clinic!” Bucky shouted, eyes flashing with anger.

“I thought Sam did,” Steve said, honestly, eyes widening, voice softening. “Maybe one of those times you guys were talking about me?” His voice turned bitter.

“Yeah, fucking turn this on me! Everything is my fault!” Bucky screamed throwing his hands in the air.

“I was just telling you about this, Bucky!” Steve tried to defend himself, knowing he really had no defense. He’d fucked up . . . his fear of saying the words out loud had made him keep something from his lover.

“Two fucking weeks after, Steve!”

“And if you hadn’t gotten the phone call? If I’d had the chance to say it, would you be this angry at me still?” Steve challenged.

“Fuck you, Steve! You make me feel like complete shit for not telling you something so insignificant while you were standing there doing the same _exact_ thing!”

“Right,” he said quietly and nodded. “I was afraid to tell you that maybe, just maybe, Brock had sold my possible kid, and you were afraid I was secretly having an affair with Pepper and didn’t want sex with you. Great. We’re both fucking afraid to talk, aren’t we?” Steve headed into the studio.

“Great! Fucking run from your problems! It’s what you’re good at!” Bucky shouted and turned back to walk down the stairs, using the railing to keep himself upright.

Steve shook his head, finding the small ring box. It was probably the worst fucking time, but he was through hiding things. It wasn’t helping at all. Fuck dinner and waiting for this to clear. “I wasn’t running,” he muttered, coming back to the hallway. “Buck?”

Bucky grabbed his keys by the front door, forgetting his wallet in his haste, and punched in the code to get out of the house.

Steve looked down at the front door, stunned. “Bucky?” He sprinted down the steps and threw open the door, watching as Bucky’s car sped off in an erratic pattern. “Bucky!”

He stood, stunned, beginning to tremble. Slowly, he turned and walked back into the empty house. Standing in the front hallway, he reached over without looking and put the box on the hall table, right next to both their wallets. Steve slowly walked to the hall closet and opened it, reaching inside for his gloves.


	15. Cleanliness is next to Psychosis

Unaware of the passage of time, he didn’t feel hungry or tired, the tall, muscular blond stood up, critically eyeing the kitchen floor. In socks to avoid damaging the shining wax job, Steve moved carefully into the hallway, returning the waxing supplies to the hall closet, lining them up neatly, orderly, bottle on it’s clearly marked shelf and cleaned waxing mop hanging from it’s proper hook. Wiping his hands on the old rag tucked into his jeans, Steve took out the tool box and shut the hall closet door.

Padding quietly up the steps, barely glancing at the clock that read 12:34 PM, he walked into his former studio and set the toolbox carefully down. Rubbing his hands on his jeans, Steve took a breath and began moving his supplies from the room, box by box, placing them carefully downstairs in the room still designed as a child’s bedroom.

After the last box had been removed, Steve carefully slid furniture boxes into the master bedroom, trying to avoid damaging the rug or blocking the way. He moved the tool box last, placing it in Ava’s room, before he trudged downstairs and opened the hall closet door once more.

Reviewing his supplies, mentally noting he would need more supplies soon, the blond took what he needed: broom, dust cloth, trash bags, scrub bucket and brush, cleaning fluids, and various other items, and carried them up to the empty studio. Setting the items carefully, neatly, just outside the door, Steve began dusting the walls and shelves. He swept the floor, making sure not a single dust bunny hid in a corner. Then, dropping to his knees in the furthest corner, Steve began scrubbing the floor, carefully taking a small brush to the cracks to make sure all dirt was removed from Ava’s future bedroom.

He continued to work, quietly, concentrating on making sure that Ava would have nothing to complain about when she came home in two days.

A little after five that evening, someone pounded heavily on the door, pressing the doorbell as they knocked in an almost erratic fashion.

Sighing, Steve closed the hall closet door rather than grabbing the supplies he intended to use to clean the now emptied room designated to be Kevin’s space. Instead, wiping his reddened, chapped hands on his towel, Steve went and looked through the safety glass at the front door.

“Steve! Bucky! Someone open the door or I’m breaking it down!” Sam shouted, continuing to press on the doorbell.

Reaching over, Steve opened the door, which he had not locked nor armed. He offered Sam a pleasant smile, eyes sad, but the rest of him appearing quite welcoming and happy. “Come in, Sam. I’m afraid I’m the only one here right now.”

“Making me do welfare checks now, Rogers?” Sam grumbled as he stepped into the home, noting the overall sparkling conditions of the living and dining room. He shot the blond man a very concerned look.

“Would you like to sit? Are you thirsty? Hungry? I’m not sure when Bucky will be home,” Steve turned to walk into the kitchen in his socks.

Following the man, looking around at the spotless home, Sam frowned, “Bucky isn’t here? Natasha told me you had him on sedatives?” Thinking back, the detective now remembered not seeing the brunet’s car in the driveway.

“He woke up, we spoke, and he left,” Steve gave a bare minimal description. “That was around dawn.” Steve pulled out a tall glass and filled it with ice. “Juice? Water? Soda?”

“Steve . . .” Sam drawled worryingly, “What happened? Natasha said you were pretty upset? You and Bucky got in a fight?”

“Oh, that,” Steve nodded and opted to get soda for his guest. Pouring carefully, he turned and set the glass on a coaster he retrieved from the counter. The blond turned to put the soda bottle away and pull out some chicken. “I broke Bucky’s trust by telling Ava about her mother and the fire.” He sighed, sounding upset. “I was wrong, and Bucky was very angry. He got so upset, he hurt his arm.”

Steve washed his hands then pulled out a cutting board and began cubing the meat, without lifting his eyes, working neatly and precisely. “I fixed his arm and sedated him, and Nat took the kids so we would be able to work through things.” Steve went to the fridge and pulled out some vegetables, taking them to the cutting board to begin chopping. “When he woke up, we talked about it. I think he forgave me, kind of. He’s still angry, I’m pretty sure, but he didn’t seem to be holding it against me or anything.” Steve shrugged one shoulder, “but I could be wrong. Turns out I’ve never been very good at reading people.” The man turned and pulled out one of the frying pans.

Very concerned now, Sam thought of calling Riley; he had no idea how to handle this situation. Obviously Steve was dissociating; the detective didn’t know how to break through the protective wall the blond had thrown up. “Did you work things out? Where’s Bucky, Steve?” Sam didn’t like that no one had heard from Bucky for several hours, which was completely unlike the brunet. What if Steve had hurt him? Sam knew Steve wouldn’t hurt Bucky on purpose, but it was very clear that the blond wasn’t in a healthy state of mind right then.

“We were working it out, and I was going to tell him about something that’s worried me for a couple of weeks. But Riley called and told Bucky first.” Steve scooped the vegetables and chicken into the pan and turned to began some stir fry on the stove. He totally ignored the wok he’d gotten from Bucky four years ago, the first time he’d used such a cooking device. “Just like you told him about my trouble with sex. Thank you, Sam. You saved me the trouble of trying to find the words.” Steve sounded calm and accepting, not in the least upset.

Keeping his eyes on the food, Steve continued, “so, Bucky got angry that I hadn’t talked to him about my worries. He left. It’s only fair. I’d gotten angry at him first and left for a few hours, so Bucky should be free to leave, too. It’s not like he’s chained or anything.” Steve turned and slid the food onto a serving platter, reaching for a plate and silverware and pushing them towards Sam. “Have something to eat? It’s fresh.”

“That was almost twelve hours ago, Steve,” Sam said quickly, eyes widening slightly. Steve hadn’t seen Bucky for twelve hours? Sam ignored the food, looking up at Steve with large, worried eyes.

Nodding, Steve said, “I know.” He served food onto the plate and turned to put the rest in a bowl. “The kids aren’t due back for a couple of days, so he doesn’t have to worry about them right now. Bucky works so hard, even though he’s supposed to be on vacation. He’s needs some alone time.”

“Steve . . . and please answer me honestly, did something happen? Was there an altercation? Is Bucky hurt? You can tell me.” Sam looked around the room again, it was spotless, not signs of any sort of struggle. However, Steve had been cleaning for twelve hours.

Turning to look at Sam, Steve frowned, shaking his head. “I would never hit Bucky. And he didn’t hit me,” he shrugged again. “I told you, Sam, he got mad about me not telling him about my worries. He left.” The blond moved to wash the dishes, scrubbing carefully, minutely. “I’ve had time to set up Ava’s room and was getting started on Kevin’s when you called. I’ll have to pick up curtains and stuff tomorrow, but it’s come along nicely.”

“Steve, stop,” Sam said firmly, stepping closer to put a hand on the blond’s shoulder.

Looking at Sam, hands freezing, the blond frowned softly. “Stop? Stop what? Oh . . .” he flushed. “I’m hogging the conversation.” He nodded, hanging his head.

“Stop cleaning. Look at me, Steve. You need to tell me everything that happened.” Sam kept his tone firm, direct.

“Stop cleaning?” Steve lifted his face, eyes stricken, haunted, almost hunted. His shoulders hunched and he left the pan and the scrubbing sponge in the sink, backing off. “But it’s the only thing I’m good at. It’s the only thing I do that doesn’t hurt anyone,” his voice had fallen to a bare whisper.

“That’s not true . . . hey, Steve, look at me,” Sam’s voice softened and he gave Steve’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Steve went paler, his eyes filling with tears. “No, you’re right Sam, I _am_ a liar. I keep secrets and don’t share. I’m selfish and . . .” he sobbed, covering his face, leaning against the island.

Wrapping his arms around his friend, Sam held Steve close and rubbed his back, “you aren’t a liar, Steve. I don’t know what Riley told Bucky about . . . but you obviously had a reason to hold off on saying anything.”

Shaking his head, Steve slid to the floor, out of Sam’s grip, curling up and burying his face in his arms. “No, I was thoughtless and hurt Bucky really bad. He’s angry and hurt and I did that.” Steve shook his head in his arms, voice muffled and soft.

Crouching down, Sam laid a hand on Steve’s knee, “I’m sure it’s not that bad, Steve. Bucky gets overwhelmed.”

Lifting his face, scrubbing at his eyes, Steve enunciated, “I told Ava about her mother. I did something Bucky told me not to do. He was supposed to make that decision. He’s her father. I’m the boyfriend. I don’t have the right to interfere with Ava.”

“Ava should know the truth about what happened. You saw that because you were able to look at it from a different perspective. Bucky was too close, he wants to protect that girl from the world.” Sam continued gently.

Shaking his head, Steve stood quickly, stepping back to the sink and began rinsing off the pan and utensils. He put them in the drain board to dry and began scrubbing the sink. “No, Sam, Bucky’s right. I shouldn’t have tried to act like her father. I don’t have that right. She’s his, not mine. I don’t deserve any rights over the kids.”

“Stop cleaning, Steve. Calm down. Have you taken your medication?” Sam asked, voice firm but soft as he stood back up.

“I can’t leave a mess! It’s my job to clean. I have to keep this place nice so he’s happy and comfortable. It has to be safe and sanitary.” Steve continued to scrub, harder this time, shaking his head. “I’m a dirty slut and I need to keep things clean.”

Grabbing Steve’s bicep firmly, Sam hauled the blond away from the sink and into the dining room, sitting him down in one of the chairs.

Sponge clutched, dripping soap and water in a trail then a puddle, Steve sobbed, not fighting Sam at all. He went where he was pulled.

“Steve! Calm down! Look at me!” Sam said, voice rising with concern.

The blond lifted tear-washed, swollen, red-streaked eyes, obviously he’d been crying off and on all day. He curled his shoulders protectively inwards, slouching his tall height to a more non-threatening posture. “Yes, sir?” Steve asked softly.

Sam ran his hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration, “Steve . . . where’s your medicine?”

Looking down at the floor, he shook his head.

“Where is it, Steve. C’mon, man,” Sam almost whined, so out of his element.

“It’s gone,” Steve said.

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Sam’s breath hitched and he was already pulling out his phone to call Riley. He needed help.

“It was thrown out,” Steve said, quietly, cringing.

“You - - you threw out your medicine? Steve, you need to stay on it - - how are you supposed to help Bucky if you aren’t keeping yourself healthy?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cringing.

“Shit,” Sam cursed and dialed Riley’s number; bringing the phone to his ear, he continued to watch Steve warily.

Glancing out the dining room door, Steve turned and headed in that direction, towards the stairs. He stopped at the hall closet, opening it, and began pulling out what he needed to finish cleaning Kevin’s new room.

After a quick conversation with Riley, Sam hung up the phone and jogged up the stairs to find Steve.

Slowly, quietly in his stocking feet, Steve made his way up to Ava’s former room and began cleaning, dusting then vacuuming.

Pulling the plug on the vacuum, Sam looked at Steve.

Steve stopped, hanging his head. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t think about how loud it would be.” He started winding the cord back up.

“I’m taking you to the clinic, Steve, put some shoes on,” Sam ordered.

“No,” Steve told him calmly, carrying the vacuum back down to put it away.

“You don’t have a choice, either you come with me or I’m going to be forced to call in reinforcements to help,” Sam stated, trying to keep his voice even and controlled.

“I know I don’t,” Steve answered. “I’m not allowed to leave.” He reached for the broom and began to carry it up the steps.

“Where do you keep Bucky’s sedatives, Steve?” Sam asked, not seeing any other choice than to sedate the large blond.

“In his bathroom medicine cabinet,” Steve answered readily enough. He sighed. “But they’re locked up so the kids are safe.” Steve walked into the child’s room and began sweeping the rug.

“Show me, yeah?” Sam asked, following the other man wherever he went.

“You want to check on Bucky’s meds?” Steve looked at him, frowning softly. He stopped sweeping.

“Riley told me I need to bring them into the clinic . . . the sedatives have been recalled,” Sam lied, hoping Steve wouldn’t see right through the poor attempt.

Steve studied his friend’s face for a long moment before slumping his shoulders and heading towards the master bedroom. He walked over to the bed stand and took out the key. “Here’s the key,” he offered the metal bit to Sam.

Taking the key with a nod, Sam walked into the bathroom to retrieve the medicine.

As Sam worked with the medicine lock, Steve walked out of the room and padded downstairs once more. The soft sound of a door shutting came up the steps, but it was quiet, not sounding emotional or dramatic in anyway.

Holding one of the sedatives in his hand, Sam walked down the stairs cautiously, looking around for Steve. He didn’t see or hear the other man. “Steve? Where you at, man?” Sam called out loudly.

There was no answer.

Sam made it to the bottom of the steps and looked around the living and dining room, not seeing Steve in either. “Steve? Where are you?” The detective walked into the kitchen. No sounds came from inside the house. Looking out into the small backyard, Sam shook his head when he didn’t see any sign of his friend. He closed the door and made his way to the front door; hopefully Steve didn’t run off or something. Opening the door, he stepped outside, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and blue.

The door shut quickly behind Sam and the alarm was engaged.

“Steve!” Sam shouted, whirling on the door, but not touching it, knowing he’d set off the alarm if he did. “Steve! C’mon, man!”

“No, Sam!” Steve called back through the door. “I’m not allowed to leave!”

Sam instantly became very concerned for Bucky’s welfare; Steve was really far gone. The man was erratic and not like himself. “Bucky isn’t Rumlow, Steve! You’re allowed to leave! You know that!”

“No! I won’t leave Bucky again! I have to be here when he gets home, or he’ll cut open his stitches again! I’m not leaving!” Steve called back, his voice cracking.

Ice ran through Sam’s veins; had Bucky committed suicide and Steve lost it? “Steve! I need you to open the door! We need to talk!”

The alarm disengaged and Steve opened the door, tears streaking down his face. “Okay, come on in, Sam.” He backed into the hallway.

Just as Sam passed Steve, the detective whirled around and grabbed the man, plunging the sedative into Steve’s arm.

Frowning, Steve didn’t fight Sam. He merely watched and sighed, shaking his head. “That’s illegal, Sam. That’s Bucky’s, not mine. Mine are on top of the refrigerator.”

“You gonna report me?” Sam asked, removing the needle and looking up at Steve.

Going immediately pale, Steve curled his hands under his armpits and began shaking his head, backing up, whispering, “No! No, sir. I won’t report anything. Nothing happened!” He seemed absolutely terrified.

Sighing softly, Sam led the blond over to the couch.

This time, Steve didn’t cooperate. Instead of going where Sam wanted, Steve bolted for the stairs. The drugs took effect about half way up and the man forced himself to the top landing before collapsing to his knees, head bowed. He continued to beg, brokenly, voice trailing off, “won’t say anything. Please, don’t make me . . .”

As soon as Steve passed out, Sam dragged the unconscious man into the bedroom and carefully laid him on the bed. Pulling out his phone again, Sam dialed his boyfriend’s number . . . he needed help.

Riley’s voice came after only the second ring, sounding worried and expectant, “Yeah? Sam? How’s he doing?”

“I need you to come to Steve and Bucky’s house. Now. I’m out of my element here,” Sam said, looking at his unconscious friend.

“Book ‘em but never talk to ‘em? What happened to the man who talked Bucky into cooperating five years ago?” Riley could be heard leaving his apartment and getting into his car. “Hanging up, Sam. I’ll be there in ten or fifteen. Is he okay for now? Are you?”

“No, he’s not. Bucky’s missing. No one has heard from Bucky in over twelve hours,” Sam’s hands shook.

“Call and file a report?” Riley suggested then hung up.

Clutching the phone tightly, Sam slid down against the wall and watched Steve until Riley got there.

Sam’s phone rang within thirteen minutes, the ring tone indicating Riley was on the other end.

“Riley?” Sam answered quickly, eyes glued on Steve’s sleeping form.

“Yeah, let me in? Don’t wanna set off the alarm and have to explain to the cops that the cop inside left me out here.” The man sounded more worried than amused, despite his teasing words.

Jogging down the stairs, Sam opened the door wide to let his boyfriend in. “I messed up.”

“How?” Riley walked in and looked around, frowning at the over-clean appearance of everything and the sound of running water in the kitchen.

“I might’ve sedated him?” Sam answered, shutting the door behind Riley.

“Sedated?” Looking surprised, the slender blond shook his head. “Where’d . . . no! Not the stuff I gave Bucky?”

Sam cringed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Which one? Red cap or green cap? And where is he? Not sleeping in the sink, I hope,” the nurse looked around as if he might have missed seeing a six foot two inch, two hundred pound adonis.

“The one in the syringe? And he’s in their bed right now,” Sam answered.

“They’re _both_ in syringes, Sam!” Riley headed for the stairs. “Which cap? Red or green?”

“The red one,” Sam reported, following Riley up the stairs.

“Thank the Lord! The green one’s stronger, and with his heart condition, could kill him.” Riley ran into the master bedroom and began checking over Steve. “Sam, you are never to administer drugs to someone if they aren’t prescribed for that person!” His boyfriend shook his head and sank onto the edge of the bed. “Sleeping,” he said, relieved.

“I know! I freaked out! He was talking about Bucky opening his stitches and he wouldn’t stop cleaning and then he’d start crying and - -” Sam’s words rushed out in one breath.

Frowning, Riley looked at Sam and listened intently. “Don’t make me give you the green cap, Sam,” Riley said gently. “You know, with a bit of therapy, you can get this anxiety about friends being hurt under control?” He touched his boyfriend’s arm. “So, Steve disassociated and thought he was with Rumlow again?”

Sagging, looking over at his friend with worried eyes, Sam nodded, “Yes . . . no? I’m not sure. I mean he was talking about Bucky - - not Rumlow. But he said something about if he left the house Bucky would rip open his stitches again. Riley, what if Bucky killed himself or something?”

“Did you ask Steve if Bucky’s dead?” Riley asked gently. He stroked Sam’s arm.

“I asked where he was, if he was okay - - but no, I didn’t straight out ask if he was dead,” Sam informed him, tone wavering in concern for his friend’s well being.

“And Steve didn’t say where Bucky was?” Riley frowned. “He didn’t answer?”

“Said Bucky went for a drive . . . _twelve_ hours ago,” Sam stated.

“And his car’s not out front . . .” Rily said, waiting for Sam to catch on.

“I know his car isn’t out front, but Bucky doesn’t just disappear for twelve hours without a word to anyone,” Sam shook his head, getting frustrated.

“Which means,” Riley pulled Sam to sit on the bed in front of him, next to Steve, “that if Bucky did hurt himself, he did it out of Steve’s knowledge. Did Steve say why Bucky left?”

“Something about a phone call that you made? You told him something - - something Steve hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to Bucky about yet.”

“You mean about Kevin’s DNA results?” Riley looked worried, dreading the inadvertent fight he might have caused.

“I guess? Steve didn’t really tell me,” Sam looked confused, “what were the results, Riley? What got Bucky so spooked?”

“Still looking for the real mother, Rumlow sold the kid to the woman we found him with. But his father is 99.8 percent a match for Steve. I didn’t know he hadn’t told Bucky he thought he was the father.” Riley shook his head.

Sam shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, “this is a mess. Bucky’s missing . . . we can’t file a report until 24 hours. And Steve is Kevin’s father . . .”

“We can if the victim is regularly on medicine he missed, at health risk, or might self harm,” Riley reminded his boyfriend. Sam’s propensity to lose focus when a loved one was hurt could be a real problem. “We get to report him now, Sam.”

Sam nodded, “yeah, okay - - right. Do you think Bucky would kill himself?”

“No. He loves Ava too much,” Riley said with certainty. “He’s been depressed and anxious but never suicidal since he took on his niece. He might feel like he’s useless or in the way, but he’d settle Ava first before killing himself. As long as he hasn’t signed over custody, he’s safe.”

“Then where is he?” Sam shook his head again, rising to his feet.

“He was angry, confused and semi-sedated? And he drove?” Riley nodded. “Let’s check hospitals and morgues, Sam. We’re looking at accident potential.”

“Alright,” Sam nodded, feeling more focused and determined, “I have to get to the station, can you stay with Steve?”

Riley nodded. “Yeah, I’ll stay with him. When’s the last time he had his own meds?”

“He said he threw them out, that’s why I used Bucky’s . . .” Sam answered.

Sighing, Riley shook his head. “He threw out the ones Rumlow gave him five years ago. If he’s disassociating back to that time, he may have thought that’s what you meant.”

“Wait . . .” Sam shook his head, walking out of the room and down the stairs. “After I sedated him . . . he told me that his were on the fridge.”

Riley waited for the man to return with two medicine wheels. He nodded. “The blue is Steve’s. The purple is Bucky’s.” He reached over and checked the days and time slots. “Missed the last two doses of everything. So, about nightfall last night he took his meds.”

“Bucky and him fought last night,” Sam nodded, the timeline starting to fall into place.

“And when Bucky left, Steve began to clean, trying to make the house perfect so Bucky wouldn’t be angry and leave again. Flashbacks to Rumlow without complete dissociation.” Riley turned to check on Steve, who was still out. “And Bucky found out that Steve hadn’t told him that he might have a kid . . . had taken in his own kid . . . and that would have hurt Bucky. He would have felt like Steve betrayed him? Didn’t trust him? Maybe with this whole Ava thing, Bucky would feel really vulnerable about being trusted with kids?”

The therapist turned nurse sighed and shook his head, green eyes worried. “And I think Steve would have kept it quiet in case he was wrong . . . not wanting Bucky to think Steve would actually _let_ Rumlow sell his kid? What would that say about Steve taking care of a kid? Damn, I can easily see how these guys got into this fight.”

Sam nodded and turned to leave the bedroom, “I’m going to start checking hospitals and accident reports.”

“And I’ll report him missing,” Riley picked up his phone to call it in. As Bucky’s nurse, and friend, he had some footing for this report. “And,” he dialed carefully, “I’ll watch over Steve. Tell Nat what we discovered?”

“Call me when he wakes?” Sam said and then walked out of room and down the stairs, leaving the house.

“Yeah, will do. Hello? Yes, this is . . .” Riley turned to look at Steve, lowering his voice.


	16. Lost Without You

“He still hasn’t called you?” Natasha asked, watching Steve closely.

Stopping, looking up from where he was trying to put Kevin’s bed together with a set of totally incomprehensible instructions and seemingly inadequate tools, the blond sighed. “No, and the clinic hasn’t seen him, and Sam hasn’t heard anything, either.” He looked back at the project. Three days of sedatives had really made him feel even stupider than usual, but he certainly felt calmer . . . if no less worried about his boyfriend.

“It’s been _four_ days,” Nat said, her fear for her friend evident in her tone.

“Yeah, I know, Nat,” Steve said. The house sparkled after almost 96 hours of cleaning practically non-stop, only resting when someone tranqued him again. The day after Sam had found him he’d gone to get the kids and sheepishly asked if anyone at the store had heard from Bucky, and they had kept constant vigilance on him ever since - - though they’d permitted him to blow off steam fixing things up around the place. Thus, he was now finishing up the rooms, alone because he refused help, while Nat peppered him with questions.

“This isn’t like him, Bucky doesn’t just _disappear_.” She ran her hand through her hair.

“I filed a missing person report, Nat . . .” Steve suddenly dropped the allen wrench and put his arm over his face. He’d broken down so damned much the last four days. “I filed one with Sam the second day, when you guys said you’d heard nothing,” he muttered into his sleeve. “They told me Riley already filed one, but took my statement anyway.”

“And nothing?” She pressed.

“Nothing,” Steve said, voice barely audible. He pushed to his feet and walked from the room, leaving the unfinished bed in the middle of the still half-furnished, spotless room. “Ava? Kevin? Lunch time!” He trotted down the steps, looking into the living room where the kids drew and colored on suspiciously professional grade paper with equally expensive art supplies.

“Is Uncle Bucky feeling better, yet, Steve?” Ava looked up at Steve with wide, worried eyes. She’d never gotten to apologize.

“He hasn’t called yet, Pumpkin. How’s the get well card coming?” Steve offered her a small smile. He never seemed happy these days, but he tried.

Ava sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, “it’s okay . . . Kevin is putting polka-dots on it . . . I drew a coffee mug . . .” her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Girl bugs,” Kevin corrected happily.

Steve nodded and looked over their work, barely noting the red blotches with black polka-dots Kevin made. “It’s beautiful, Baby. Why don’t we go make some lunch, okay?”

“I didn’t mean what I said to him, Steve!” Ava’s tears fell down her cheeks. “I - - I didn’t get to say I was sorry . . .” She wiped at her eyes, sniffling loudly.

“I told him that for you, actually, Ava. And he was very relieved.” Steve smiled at her, but his eyes held misery and he hugged her to his strong body. He still felt out of control, but those meds had toned the anxiety and fear down enough that Steve could concentrate on the kids most of the time, even without knowing if Bucky was dead or alive. “No, you didn’t make him sick, baby. I did. We got in a fight about . . . the bad man.”

A loud knock from the front door echoed through the home.

Steve stood and ran to the door, looking out before unlocking it. Seeing Sam, not Bucky, Steve punched in the code and opened the door. “Sam? Anything?” He backed out of the way so the detective could come in.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone, Steve?” Sam asked hurriedly as he stepped into the home.

Steve pulled out his phone and frowned, noting the dead battery. “Because it didn’t ring?” He showed the useless phone to Sam.

“I’ve been calling you!” Sam ground out; his eyes flickered over to the children using Steve’s expensive art supplies, Nat watching them with a small frown. He looked back at the blond and shook his head. “I found him.”

“Thank God!” Steve’s legs went weak and he leaned on the wall.

Sam lowered his tone, to avoid the children overhearing, “it’s not good, Steve.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, grabbing both wallets and the box, putting them and his dead phone into his pockets without really thinking.

“He got in an accident the same day you guys had your fight? A pretty serious one,” Sam’s eyes were sympathetic.

“But . . . the clinic didn’t call! No one heard anything!” Steve frowned.

“No one knew who he was, he didn’t have any ID on him,” the detective explained slowly.

“He couldn’t tell them?” Steve whispered, pale.

Shaking his head, Sam looked over at Ava and Kevin again before meeting Steve’s worried eyes, “no . . . he hasn’t woken up yet.”

“God!” Steve turned and ran to Nat’s side, whispering low in her ear, “Bucky’s in a coma. Take the kids.” He turned and ran from the house for Sam’s car. “Take me?”

“Of course,” Sam nodded and followed Steve out, quickly unlocking his cruiser and sliding into the driver’s seat. “He’s at some hospital in Jersey, that’s why it took me so long to locate him. I had to widen my search to out-of-state hospitals.”

“Okay, Jersey,” Steve repeated, ignoring the fact that the house had been left lit up and unlocked. He didn’t care. Nat had the kids. He needed to go to Bucky.

“Steve,” Sam said slowly, pulling away from the curb, “the nurse I spoke to . . . she told me he’s in pretty rough shape. The truck that hit his car ran a red light going about sixty. It took the firemen almost an hour to get him out of the car, that’s how bad the damage was.” The detective had to prepare Steve for what he was about to see.

Steve looked at the detective. “But he’s alive? The doctors didn’t say I’d be pulling the plug or anything? There’s hope, right?” he begged.

“He has brain activity and he’s responding to tests . . . he just hasn’t woken up yet,” Sam reported.

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Okay. Just hasn’t woken yet.” The blond held onto that hope. “So, once he wakes up, will we move him to the clinic?”

Nodding, Sam’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel; he looked over at Steve apprehensively, “yeah . . . when he wakes up . . . he’s going to need extensive physical therapy.”

“Because of muscle atrophy?” Steve asked, knowing that Wade had lost a lot of muscle while he’d been recovering from burns. It was one of the reasons he’d been stuck in the clinic so long before he just decided to live there, where people didn’t stare any more.

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, Steve . . . they - - they couldn’t save his left arm, it got pinned in the wreck. All the bones were shattered beyond repair.”

“Shattered?” Steve asked softly. “Does he need surgery? I’m allowed to sign for him, right?”

“They had to amputate,” Sam explained, he looked over at his friend.

“Amputate?” He looked at Sam directly. “Already?” Shaking his head, he lowered blue eyes to stare blankly at the dashboard. “Of course. As soon as possible to save as much of the blood vessels. Right.” He’d worked at the clinic enough to know some things. Brokenly, the blond added, “He got mad at me. I was too scared to tell him I thought Kevin was mine, and he got mad because I didn’t tell him.” Steve sobbed and buried his face in one arm, falling back into that guilt yet again.

“Hey,” Sam said firmly, “I know this is hard . . . but you need to try and calm down, okay? At least he’s alive . . . and he has a good chance of waking up.”

“Okay,” Steve wiped at his eyes then scrubbed at them, trying to get his tears under control. “Okay, strong for Bucky. Yeah, I gotta be strong for Bucky.” Steve took a deep breath and lifted his face, eyes determined if watery, mouth set in a firm line.

After a long time, Sam pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and found a spot. He slipped out and offered a reassuring nod to the blond.

Steve took a breath and stepped from the car, closing his door calmly, quietly. “Ready, Sam. I need to take care of Bucky.” He sounded determined.

Leading the taller man into the hospital, Sam stopped at the front desk to find out what room Bucky was being kept in.

Following quietly, face set in a determined frown, much like a soldier returning from duty, the blond didn’t look left or right around the unfamiliar hospital. Upon hearing the room number, Steve nodded. “Thank you,” he said, softly, and strode off, following signs.

A nurse greeted Steve outside Bucky’s room; she smiled softly at the two men, “are you here for our John Doe?”

“His name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve answered, fishing in his pocket to pull out Bucky’s wallet and flip it to the brunet’s license. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Well,” the nurse looked at the license and then back at Steve, “he woke up about ten minutes ago . . . we had to sedate him though, he got pretty upset. Kept asking for a _‘Steve’_ . . . I’m guessing that’s you.”

Showing the other wallet, and his own non-driver’s license, Steve looked towards the door. “Yeah, Steven Grant Rogers.” His card, saying Roger Grant, showed opposite the ID.

“Alright, well you two can go in, but please be quiet. He had quite the scare,” the nurse said with a small smile.

“Scare?” Steve repeated. “Because he just found out about his arm?” He reached for the door but froze at her words.

“That among other things,” the nurse looked down at the chart in her hands.

“Among? What else?” His eyes turned worried, rather than stony.

“Mr. Rogers . . . he woke up in a strange place, with no recollection of how he got there, and he has multiple injuries,” she answered gently.

At each word, Steve cringed and seemed to shrink into himself, revealing that he was probably a victim of some kind of abuse. He nodded by the time she finished. “Okay,” he said, softly. He looked towards the door. It was his fault Bucky was scared and injured in there. Drawing a breath, he said, “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” He opened the door and walked in, softly.

Bucky’s head sluggishly moved to look at the door as it opened, “Steve!” His tone was slurred and his eyes were half-lidded.

“Bucky?” Steve hurried to his lover’s side, worry overcoming his shame. “We found you!” He carefully touched Bucky’s right hand.

Bucky’s torso was bare, thick gauze and bandages wrapping around his chest and what was remaining of his left arm, a small stump just past the shoulder. Bruises and cuts adorned his face, varying in size and severity, some lacing back into his head, the long brunet locks shaved off for ease of tending the lacerations. His right hand was cut, bruised, and bandaged , the IV leading into his remaining arm. Bucky’s legs hadn’t escaped injury either but had been somewhat protected by his seated position. A long belt burn crossed diagonally over his chest, aching with every breath where it bruised him.

“Steve . . .” Bucky repeated, a small smile on his lips.

Carefully, Steve leaned over and kissed a non-injured bit of Bucky’s face. “I love you, Bucky.”

“Lo . . you,” Bucky murmured before his eyes slipped shut again, the heavy sedative pulling him under.

Steve carefully moved a chair to the bedside, as close as he could. He sank onto the chair and kept his hand on Bucky’s arm, not interfering with the IV. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out his dead phone. “Sam? Can you call Nat and let her know he’s okay and awake now? And call Tony to arrange for an apartment and transport? And let Ava know Bucky’s in a hospital but he’s okay and we’ll see her soon? That a car hit him, but the doctors are taking good care of him?”

“Of course,” Sam nodded and pulled out his phone, slipping out of the room to begin making the required calls.

Carefully, he stroked his hand over Bucky’s arm, avoiding the IV. “I’m not going anywhere, Bucky . . . not without you.”


	17. No More Secrets

After Bucky was stable enough, they transferred him to the clinic and moved the entire family into one of the apartments. Neither child had seen Bucky yet, but Natasha was bringing them after Bucky got settled.

More lucid now, Bucky squirmed in his hospital bed, “Steve . . . I wanna stand! I - - I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned, flopping his head against the pillows.

Steve slid an arm carefully under Bucky’s shoulders and began easing him up. “Tell me when you get too much pain,” he offered, knowing Bucky would give in soon.

Slowly, shakily, Bucky placed his feet on the floor below him. The missing weight of his left arm caused the brunet to sway as he carefully rose to his feet. “Damn,” Bucky cursed.

Bucky knew he’d lost his left arm, he could clearly see the wrapped stump, but he knew it hadn’t fully hit him yet. He’d been on such heavy painkillers that his mind hadn’t thought about it clearly. Now he was at the clinic and downgraded to a milder dose, the realization seemed to hit him like a physical blow: his arm was _gone_. He’d never be able to braid Ava’s hair or wrap both arms around his lover. He’d have to relearn how to drive . . . how to button his jeans - - opening a damn jar of peanut butter was going to be a challenge.

Supporting his lover carefully, using his greater strength to help as much as he could, Steve cradled the man against his chest, letting Bucky rest his head on a broad shoulder. “Need a break, Buck?” he asked softly.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed, “it’s _gone_.”

Nodding, Steve stroked Bucky’s shoulder carefully. “Yeah, Buck . . . Tony says that when you’ve healed enough, he can get you fitted for a prosthetic?”

Knees trembling, Bucky released a shaky breath, “I - - how am I gonna drive? Or - - write? Do _anything_?”

Answering with all practicality, Steve said, “there are things we can add to the car so you can drive, Bucky. And you can sort of scribble with your right hand. You’ll just have to practice a bit.” He stroked his lover’s shoulder. “You have a lot of learning to do, again, but it’s possible. Some people make it with _no_ arms, Sweetheart.”

Looking down at the heavily wrapped stump, Bucky huffed out a breath, “do you think I’ll scare the kids? I - - I don’t wanna scare them.” They hadn’t talked about Kevin being Steve’s biological son - - the topic was steadily avoided.

“Well,” Steve considered the question before finally, softly, saying, “We could get you a mask, but I don’t think it’ll hide your face too well. They’ve already seen it.”

“Such a punk,” Bucky grumbled fondly.

“Ava would never be afraid of her Uncle Bucky, jerk,” Steve said with a soft smile. “And I think Kevin misses his Sunshine too much to care if you’re lopsided.”

A text chimed on Steve’s phone from Natasha, alerting him that they had arrived.

Steve flicked the phone, one handed to see the text. Nodding, he put the phone on the bedside table. “They’re here, Bucky, Ready to meet our family?” He helped Bucky to sink into a chair.

A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed through the space.

Steve checked Bucky one last time then went to look out the peephole. Smiling, he opened the door. “Bring the dog to the kitchen, so he doesn’t knock Bucky,” Steve advised the small group.

Ava clutched Clint’s hand tightly, looking up at Steve with wide, fearful eyes.

Steve smiled, looking exhausted but not longer sad like last time. He crouched, hands on knees. “Wanna see your uncle, Pumpkin? He was worried about you.”

“He’s okay?” Ava asked, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Well, his car was hit by a truck speeding through a light. They took a long time to get him free, and he was pretty badly hurt, Ava.” Steve stroked her hair. “He’s so much better now, but he _looks_ like one of those zombies you like to watch on TV at Halloween . . . only he doesn’t drool or eat brains.” He poked her tummy gently. “But,” Steve took Ava’s hand, “Ava, baby? Bucky’s left arm was so hurt, the doctor’s had to cut it off or he would have bled to death. I know that makes no sense, but you know the doctors know best, right?”

“He doesn’t have an _arm_? Will they put it back?” Ava gasped, eyes going wider and hand tightening around Clint’s.

“I think they already tried and it didn’t work so well. Like when you broke your china doll’s arm by accident? Like that.” Steve petted her arm. “He’s got to get better before he can get a robot arm.” Steve smiled at her. “And we have to convince him we still love him and think he’s the best Uncle Bucky in the whole world, even better than any other Uncle Bucky ever! Because he thinks we maybe won’t like him with only one arm.”

“He _is_ the best Uncle Bucky ever,” Ava insisted.

Steve nodded. “Okay, but you know how me and Bucky get sad and stressed sometimes? He’s gonna get that way a lot. We have to keep reminding him, okay? Help him, but don’t do it for him?” He smiled, “like your homework.”

“Okay, I can do that,” Ava nodded, “I don’t want Uncle Bucky to worry anymore.”

“Me, either, Ava. And,” he took her hand, straightening, and led her into the bedroom where Bucky sat. “We’ve got a new rule in this family, Ava. If you want to know something, don’t be afraid to ask. And don’t be afraid to tell something that worries you.” He smiled over at his lover. “Bucky? The kids are home.”

Upon seeing his niece, Bucky smiled softly and said, “hey, Squirt.”

Ava let go of Steve’s hand and ran over to Bucky; she didn’t wrap her arms around him but she got as close as she could without actually touching him. “Uncle Bucky! I missed you! I’m sorry I said those mean things! I didn’t mean them . . . you’re the best Uncle Bucky in the whole world!”

Steve smiled and watched the uncle and niece have their reunion.

Lifting his hand, Bucky pulled her into a gentle hug, mindful of his own injuries, “I missed you, too, Ava. And it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. Thank you for apologizing, though.”

Walking from the room, Steve retrieved a very excited Kevin. He hadn’t seen the child since going to Bucky’s bedside and before that, he’d barely spared any real attention to the realization that this boy was his own son. He blinked and hugged him briefly, then carried the beaming child into the sickroom. “Buck?” he said, softly, hoping the injured brunet wouldn’t reject them for Steve’s lies of omission.

Looking over from where he’d been talking to Ava, Bucky smiled at his lover and his grin grew wider when he saw Kevin, “hey, buddy!” His voice cracked slightly, but he cleared his throat gently, “how’s my best guy?”

The boy reached for man and called, “My Bucky!” Steve carried the boy to Bucky’s side and set Kevin on his feet. Kevin smiled and leaned against Bucky’s leg. “My Bucky.”

Running his fingers through Kevin’s hair, Bucky smiled. This was Steve’s _son_ ; Kevin was part of Steve.

After several long minutes with the kids, Steve finally picked up Kevin and put him on the other chair. He offered a smile to Ava. “Ready to help me get Bucky back in bed so he can rest?”

“I don’t wanna hurt him!” Ava looked scared.

Steve nodded. “So, ask him how to help him, Ava. Remember? The new family rule? We use our words to tell our worries.” He smiled. Turning to his lover, Steve asked, “Bucky, ready to go back to bed? Or am I jumping the gun here?”

“Nah,” Bucky smiled tiredly, his medication and injuries still making him a little drowsy, “I’m ready.”

“Okay. So, Ava, wanna ask how to help?” Steve encouraged.

“How do I help, Uncle Bucky?” Ava asked softly, stepping closer to Bucky’s side.

“Pull back the blankets and make sure the IV doesn't get tangled, Squirt,” Bucky said gently.

Steve waited for Ava to do her part then slid his arm behind Bucky and slowly helped him to rise again, taking his weight and letting him take his time. “Oh,” the blond said, nonchalantly, “Uncle Bucky was worried his Halloween mask was too scary.”

“Ha ha,” Bucky deadpanned, panting slightly with the effort of walking, “Steve Rogers the famous comedian.”

“Nope, artist. My jokes don’t go over well. Can’t you tell?” He shot back with a small chuckle.

Ava hovered close by, intently watching the multiple IV lines so that they wouldn’t tangle.

“Mind the lines,” Steve called as he helped Bucky turn so he could get his butt on the bed. He eased the man into the bed then carefully positioned him, doing all the work this time. “Good girl, Ava. You could be a sailor.”

Ava beamed proudly, standing by her uncle’s bedside.

Steve finally sank onto the chair he’d helped Bucky out of. “Ava? Wanna bring Kevin over here? We’ve gotta have a family meeting.” He checked the IVs just in case.

Kevin, having heard his name, climbed out of his chair and walked to Ava with a smile.

“About what?” Ava asked.

Steve met Bucky’s eyes. “About us as a family.”

Bucky winced as he shifted to sit up a little better; Steve hadn’t talked about a family meeting. What was going on?

Once the kids were settled, Steve basically ignored anyone else present, including Nat and Clint; the blond nodded. “Okay. I’ve been bad and keeping secrets and that’s what caused this mess, Ava. So, I thought I should tell those secrets and promise not to keep big secrets like this any more.” He looked at Bucky. “Is this okay?”

Nodding slowly, Bucky said, “yeah,”

“This isn’t easy to say, and probably harder to hear. If I scare you or confuse you, Ava . . . Bucky . . . let me know?” Steve took a breath and looked directly at his lover. “When I was fourteen, I fell in love with my best friend. My priest told me I was going to Hell and taking him with me. So when he told me he loved me, I was terrified. I ran away.”

“Steve . . .” Bucky rasped, not looking away from his boyfriend; he reached out with his hand, wishing he could do more to comfort the man.

Steve took Bucky’s hand carefully and smiled softly. “It’s okay, Bucky. I was a stupid, scared kid. And because I was too afraid to use my words, and tell you, I did the stupidest thing in my life and nearly lost you forever. Now, I’m back, hopefully wiser, and maybe Ava and Kevin won’t make the same mistakes when they get older.”

Tracing Bucky’s skin very lightly, Steve continued. “I went to college and after a couple of years, I met Brock, the bad man. Only, I was so upset and miserable, I didn’t realize he was bad. So, I let him convince me that I didn’t deserve to be treated nicely.” Steve sighed. “I even started letting him hit me and other things.”

“Finally, Brock did something that horrified me. One of the woman that hung out with us got pregnant and had a baby. Brock decided to sell the baby.” Steve finally broke eye contact and looked down at their entwined hands. “I told the police, and he broke my hands. And feeling bad, because he explained that he hadn’t sold the baby, he’d given him back to his mother, I let Brock hurt my hands so bad I nearly couldn’t paint again.” Steve looked back at Bucky. “Then I called the cops again, and he told them that I had sex with kids. It’s a lie, but the police still had to check me over.”

“Touching kids is illegal, Steve, Miss Smith said so, a police officer came into the class and said so, too.” Ava looked confused, her eyes flickered to her uncle and then back to Steve.

“Yeah, Ava,” Steve looked at her. “Brock said I was trying to make babies with a little kid. I threw up. Who would ever do such a thing? But the cops had to make sure it was a lie. And it was. Brock was being really mean and trying to get me put in jail.” Steve sighed. “But, I was still very stupid, and Brock said he was sorry and that he would try to get help for his anger. So, I went back to him.”

The blond turned his attention back to Bucky. “Basically, time passed, and Brock would let me get a job then mess it up after awhile, over and over. He finally made his worst mistake ever . . .” Steve smiled. “He let me have coffee with my best friend, the man I really love.”

Bucky’s eyes shone with tears, and he moved to wipe them away but realized his only hand was in Steve’s. Sighing softly, he ducked his head and let the tears fall, helpless to do anything to stop them.

Lifting their combined hands, Steve gently wiped away the tears. “And, Ava, you pretty much know most of the rest. But, I never told either of you that Brock told me he would beat me if I didn’t have a girlfriend.” He hoped Bucky would understand what he really tried to say, censored for Ava’s ears. “And so I did, and that was the woman who got pregnant. I wasn’t her only boyfriend,” Steve whispered, looking at Bucky with worried eyes.

Looking up at Steve with wide, horrified eyes, Bucky wanted to wrap his arms around Steve and tell me how sorry he was. Sorry about everything the blond had gone through, sorry for what he’d shouted at him before the accident.

“Well, years passed, and I got to live like a prince in a castle, like a real knight,” Steve smiled for Ava, though it wavered. He was getting to the crux of what had ended in Bucky’s injuries. “And Bucky and Ava and me said we’d take in kids who needed help and give them homes until they could find a permanent, safe home.” He drew a breath. “And the paperwork cleared and Tony said he had a little boy who was badly hurt. What he told me about the abuse reminded me of the way I had been hurt by Brock. Then . . . then he told me that Brock was being investigated for selling this little boy!”

“The boy was six . . . and . . . when I saw him, I thought, just maybe, he was . . . he was my son.” Steve trembled and fought a sob.

“You’re Kevin’s _daddy_?” Ava asked, paling slightly and eyes going wide.

“I’ll get to that?” Steve asked softly. He stroked Bucky’s hand, looking for comfort he maybe didn’t deserve. “But I was afraid that if I told anyone what I thought, I’d be wrong. And even worse, that everyone would know I let Brock sell a baby . . . my baby.” He hung his head. “So I didn’t say anything.”

Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand; regardless of his own injuries, the brunet wanted to kiss his lover and tell him it was okay, that he didn’t love him any less. “Steve,” Bucky croaked, wincing again as he shifted to sit up more.

The blond raised his eyes, miserable but determined to be honest and stick to the rule he’d told Ava. “Yeah, Bucky?”

“It wasn’t your fault . . . you couldn’t do anything - - I love you,” Bucky’s eyes shone with worry.

“You . . . “ Steve sobbed and brought Bucky’s hand to his cheek, crying. “I . . . I love you, Bucky, so much.”

Ava watched the adults with slight confusion, “so _are_ you Kevin’s daddy?”

“The doctors did tests to find out. They say I am. Science says that Kevin’s my son.” Steve looked at Ava with shining, hopeful eyes, Bucky’s hand still held to his cheek.

“That means Kevin’s gonna live with us forever, right, Steve?” Ava pondered; she looked over to the little boy and then back to Steve.

Kevin smiled happily, oblivious to most of what they said, but apparently quite content just to sit with his family.

“Yeah, I’m looking to finalize it if Bucky agrees?” Steve said and looked at his lover, finally pulling the hand away but kissing it gently.

“Of course, Steve, he’s family,” Bucky muttered, smiling at the little boy, tears brimming his eyes again.

“Hello, My Bucky,” Kevin said softly, smiling angelically.

“Yeah, he’s a Rogers,” Steve chuckled through his tears. “We always fall in love with Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky smiled gently, still looking at Kevin.

“Ava? Is it okay if Kevin is part of our family? Do you mind being big sister forever?” Steve asked, meeting the girl’s eyes.

Ava’s eyes fell to Kevin; she seemed to study the little boy.

“Hello, My Ava,” Kevin turned his smile on her.

Slowly, she looked up at Steve and smiled softly, “I don’t mind . . . Uncle Bucky says he’s family, and we love family. Just like I love you, Steve.”

Steve reached over and pulled Ava onto his lap, giving her a hug. “Thanks, Ava. I love you, too.”

Bucky looked over at the sweet sight, his eyes beginning to droop shut, but a small smile on his face.

“Well,” Steve cleared his throat. “I have two secrets left to tell.” He looked at Bucky, worried.

“That all?” Bucky chuckled tiredly.

“I . . . I don’t want to hide anything anymore, but I can wait if you want to rest? I’ll be here when you wake up.” Steve bit his lip.

Bucky made a small humming noise; he blinked slowly a couple times, “it’s okay . . . I can stay up . . . what else?”

“Well, the first secret I found out while you were gone, Bucky, but you weren’t well enough for me to tell you until now, the doctor’s made me promise this time,” Steve told them, still looking nervous. “You see, Becca’s lawyer said after looking at both cases, and the charges against her, Becca has agreed to drop custody if you agree to supervised visits every weekend and holiday, and a yearly family vacation.”

Blinking again, Bucky lifted his head off the pillows, wincing as he attempted to sit up completely, “what? Really?”

Steve nodded. “On two conditions, other than the visits,” he said.

“What other conditions?” Bucky asked cautiously, eyes flickering between his niece and Steve.

Taking a deep breath, Steve slowly, carefully, said, “she’s afraid you aren’t serious about taking care of Ava forever, so said you have to prove you won’t give her up. Becca wants you to adopt Ava, so she won’t go to a stranger.” Steve held up a hand, “but Ava has to agree to everything or Becca will fight to get her back.”

From the doorway, Clint called, “I’ve seen the lawyer’s draft, Bucky. He’s right. That’s what Becca wants.” The man shrugged.

“That doesn’t make sense, why do all this only to want me to adopt Ava?” Bucky tried to piece things together, his mind working slower due to the medication.

Steve sighed and hugged Ava. “Because she thinks you don’t want to, Bucky, now you have a _‘boyfriend and son’_ of your own.” He shook his head, blue eyes troubled. “And . . . does she ever, actually make total sense, Buck? I have the lawyer documents if you want?”

Clint butted in again, “I think she thinks to catch you up on the Ava condition. If Ava wants to be with _her_ , Becca can say she was being reasonable with her offer and following what Ava wants.” He walked into the room. “I say give it some thought. Neither of you have to decide right now. Matt asked for time while you’re on heavy meds and she agreed, right, Nat?”

Natasha nodded, looking at Bucky, “she said you do have to come up with a decision within a - -” her eyes flickered over to Steve as the blond cut her off.

“A week after the doctor signs off on the heavy meds,” Steve supplied. At least he had told Bucky’s closest friends about Ava’s trial while Bucky was incapacitated.

Bucky looked at Natasha and then Steve, eyes still confused and worried.

“Let Matt explain it later, okay?” Steve asked, worried. “I just didn’t think it was right to keep it from you any longer.”

“I wanna stay with Uncle Bucky,” Ava called out suddenly, eyes wide, and she looked up at Steve before moving to look at her uncle, “I love you . . . I wasn’t serious about running away! I don’t wanna live with Mom!”

Softly, Steve said, “if you had been, I wouldn’t have packed for you.”

Looking back at Steve with tear-washed eyes, she said desperately, “I don’t wanna go with her!”

“Ava, Pumpkin? Calm down. Your Uncle Bucky loves you. He wants what is best for you. But he needs to think to make sure he makes the right decision, okay?” Steve stroked her hair. “It’s not just going with her, Ava, it’s about the extra visits and stuff she’s asking for, too.” He didn’t mention it would include changing Ava’s name from Proctor to Barnes, though some judges might let her have both names, in honor of her father.

“What’s the other condition?” Bucky’s raspy voice spoke up quietly.

Steve shrugged, flushing. “That you, being her guardian, provide Becca’s room and board for life for her apartment.”

“What?” Bucky snapped.

“She said that if she’s too incompetent to raise her own kid, she’s too sick to work, either, so she wants you to pay her rent, food, maintenance . . .” Steve sighed.

Bucky shook his head, cursing under his breath to avoid the children overhearing; he wanted to give his sister a piece of his mind. There was no reason that he should be forced to completely support his sister for the rest of her life; he loved Rebecca, but he and Steve would easily deplete all their savings if they had to support their family on top of Rebecca.

“Of course, there’s the alternative,” Steve said, nonchalantly. He stroked Ava’s hair.

“And what’s that?” Bucky asked.

Suddenly breaking into a very devious, very familiar smile from long ago, Steve said, “tell your sister to stop trying to bully you. You’re not a kid anymore and she can’t scare you out of your allowance. You tell her you’ll take her to court, win, and adopt Ava, and she can get nothing, not even visits if she’s going to use Ava against you.”

“We don’t have a choice, we can’t afford to completely support Becca,” suddenly Bucky felt so exhausted.

“Bucky, you aren’t thinking straight because you’re still drugged. Let me explain.” Steve leaned forward. “Becca’s aware you’ll win. She knows she can’t win with her record. So, she’s trying to manipulate you like she’s done you’re entire life. But this time, she overstepped her hand. So, if you tell her you want to go to trial, she’ll be forced to change her deal. That’s how law deals work, Buck. You go back and forth until both sides agree.” He sat back, still smiling, “and if I sell my current painting, I could afford to pay for her being institutionalized for life . . . if she’s incompetent, that’s where she should be. If she’s capable to live on her own, she doesn’t need your support. She can’t play it both ways, Buck.”

Nodding slowly, Bucky fell back to rest his head against the pillow and said softly, “yeah, okay.”

“So, tell Matt to arrange a meeting after the doctors clear you?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, grimacing as the stump of his left arm throbbed, “she can’t push me around anymore.”

Steve nodded and put Ava on her feet to reach over and scoop up Kevin. “Still up for one more secret?”

Groaning softly, Bucky looked over at Steve, “might as well, c’mon punk, whatcha got?”

Nodding, Steve gave Bucky a soft smile. “You are going to have a partner in physical therapy.”

“Uh . . . okay? Who?” Bucky asked.

“Me!” Kevin clapped his hands and said, softly. “Me and My Bucky!” The boy didn’t use his name to refer to himself, for the first time.

“You?” Bucky looked at Steve and then the little boy. He didn’t see any injuries or anything on Kevin . . . why would he need physical therapy?

Steve nodded and cuddled the boy. “He’s really far behind his own age group, Buck, and has anxiety and night terrors. Bruce already assigned him to therapy and it’s worked a bit. He speaks better, a little, and he hasn’t wet his pull up for three nights.” Steve smiled hopefully at Bucky. “You need to learn to dress, just like Kevin, and writing, like Kevin, and all kind of the same things. We thought, maybe you’d like to work together?”

Smiling softly at Kevin, Bucky nodded, “alright.”

“Nat was right again? Man, I’ll never win a bet with my wife!” Clint shook his head, pulling out his wallet. “I thought you’d feel like Kevin would move too fast and embarrass you, Bucky, but Nat was convinced that you’d out strip Kevin just so you can help him better.” He sighed and handed Nat a twenty.

Nat quirked a brow at her husband and took the twenty without question, “don’t know why you keep trying. I’m _always_ right.”

Steve chuckled softly and smiled at his lover, looking proud and grateful for Bucky’s agreement. “Kevin’s looking forward to learning from _his_ Bucky. And Ava gets more one on one time to learn cooking and art with me.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be learning more from him,” Bucky said with a fond smile for the little boy.

Steve’s son smiled up at the brunet, sighing happily. “My Bucky Sunshine.”


	18. Welcome Home

It had been almost two months since Bucky had set foot into his own house. His first sight was a confusing mix of signals. It was obvious that the entire house had been scrubbed meticulously at some recent point, but there was a buildup of dust, denoting no one had been there for some time. Upon seeing the dust, Steve groaned, holding Bucky’s suitcases and shaking his head. “Clint! You said you took care of this for us!”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed pleasantly, heading for the door. “I took out the trash and cleaned out the fridge and everything. But I don’t dust, Steve. Real men don’t dust.” The bookstore owner left the lovers behind, chuckling as he got in his car and drove away.

Bucky snorted softly and shook his head; he looked over at Steve, “you sure you don’t need help?”

“Carrying our bags or dusting the house?” Steve muttered, frowning. He slipped the suitcases to the hall floor and turned to Bucky. “I’m too embarrassed to re-introduce you around. Sure we shouldn’t go to a hotel until I can get this mess fixed?”

Laughing softly, Bucky ran his fingers through his short brown hair, it still looked like he had a military cut, which he hated, but it was growing. “Steve, baby, a little dust isn’t gonna kill us. If that truck didn’t do me in, a dust bunny sure as hell ain’t.”

Wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and hugging him from behind, Steve muttered, “if a dust bunny dares come near you, I’ll vacuum him up!”

“My hero,” Bucky teased softly, a smirk on his lips as he leaned back into Steve’s chest.

“Well, if you aren’t afraid of my hidden army of dust bunnies, I guess I’ll show you the changes. I still didn’t get to finish Kevin’s room or the studio . . .” Steve straightened and reached for Bucky’s right hand.

Grabbing Steve’s hand, Bucky let the blond lead him throughout the home.

Finally, they wound up in the master bedroom. The only major changes had been the addition of windows and shelves to the downstairs studio, and Ava’s room had been moved over to the former studio. Smiling, Steve shrugged. “And your room.”

“ _Our_ room, Steve, you’ve lived here for five years. The room is yours just as much as it’s mine,” Bucky laughed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, smiling, not looking like he doubted it in the least. “Gotta get use to _calling_ things mine, too.” He touched the dresser. “My dresser.” Touching the bed, he added “my bed.” Hugging Bucky, he whispered against his lover’s neck, “my Bucky.”

A shiver ran down Bucky’s spine and he wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist, “still getting used to only holding you with one arm.”

“And once you get used to your prosthetic, it’ll be two arms again, Buck,” Steve smiled, kissing Bucky’s neck.

“Yeah, but I can’t _feel_ you with the prosthetic, just makes me look like a cyborg,” the brunet pressed his lips to the crook of Steve’s neck, nipping and sucking gently.

“But Tony said he has some genius bio-inventions guy named Pym working on new designs, with neural transmitters, whatever they are,” Steve kissed again. “Mmm . . . frisky?”

Moving his teeth to bite at Steve’s earlobe, Bucky breathed, “been wanting you for _weeks_.”

”Me, too, Bucky,” Steve moaned and licked at Bucky’s neck. He kissed the pulse point. “Wanna shower or bed?”

“Wanna see me all wet, punk?” Bucky kissed Steve’s lips, running his tongue across the bottom lip.

“Wanna see you all hot and me deep in you . . . or you deep in me. Either way works for me,” he breathed, kissing and licking Bucky’s neck and right shoulder.

“Fuck me,” Bucky groaned, his erection straining against his jeans.

“God yes, Bucky . . . let me fuck you.” He caressed Bucky’s back under his shirt, rucking it up further with each stroke.

“Please,” Bucky moaned, “make me feel so good, Stevie.”

The strong blond lifted his boyfriend and laid him across the bed kissing his neck, sucking lightly at the pulse point. He carefully removed Bucky’s shirt, not disturbing his still healing left side. Reaching down, Steve began to unfasten Bucky’s jeans.

Lifting his right hand, Bucky tugged at Steve’s shirt, and with some difficulty and Steve’s help, finally managed to remove the garment. “Can you unbutton your pants?” Even with physical therapy, the brunet still struggled with the button of jeans, usually it took him a couple minutes to do his own.

“Nope,” Steve breathed, “sweatpants don’t have buttons, baby.” He kissed Bucky again and slid the brunet’s jeans down his legs, smiling down at his lover’s erection so close to his mouth. “Hello,” he breathed, hot air caressing Bucky’s shaft.

“Anyone ever tell you, you talk - -” Bucky’s breath caught in his throat and his hips lifted off the bed.

Steve interrupted Bucky’s words by sliding his mouth over the spongy cockhead before him, sucking slightly and looking up to meet grey eyes. With a slight hum, Steve let his tongue lick over Bucky’s slit, enjoying the taste of his precum, already beginning to leak out for him.

“Fuck!” Bucky’s back arched, “Stevie - - _please_ , fuck me . . .”

“Yeah?” He breathed over Bucky then began to lap down the length of him, concentrating on tracing every vein. “Need lube,” he murmured into Bucky’s balls as he suckled each in turn.

Fingers running through Steve’s hair, Bucky keened, “I need you, Steve.”

The blond didn’t respond, instead licking his way across Bucky’s taint and up to his opening, sucking slightly then pushing his tongue past the ring of muscle. Steve began thrusting his tongue in and out, stiffening it as he rimmed his lover’s passage.

Bucky squirmed, every nerve in his body thrumming with pleasure, “ _Fuck!_ Steve - - baby . . . I need to feel you!”

Pulling his mouth back, Steve sucked on his middle finger then thrust it inside Bucky, sliding in all the way. He began thrusting ad twisting his digit, brushing the brunet’s prostate as he worked him. “Still need lube, babe,” Steve said and began licking Bucky’s beautiful erection again.

Hips pushing down to meet Steve’s finger, Bucky moaned loudly; thank God the children were staying at Natasha and Clint’s for the night. His hand fisted the comforter below him, the brunet’s back arching as Steve’s tongue licked his shaft.

Moving his mouth to swallow the first third of his lover’s erection, Steve continued to thrust his finger inside Bucky. He carefully pulled out then eased two inside, slowly, straight and steady. As Steve pulled off of Bucky’s manhood, he thrust his fingers deeper and rested, smiling up at Bucky with desire-blown eyes. “God, I love how you taste, Bucky.”

Rolling his hips against Steve’s fingers, Bucky keened obscenely, desperate to _feel_ Steve. He needed to be filled, to be loved. “I love you! _Please_ \- - Steve . . .”

Chuckling low, Steve licked Bucky’s taint. “Babe, this would go a lot better if you’d just give me the lube in the table at your head.” He began sliding his fingers in and out of his lover, curving to brush his prostate, and easing them open, scissoring to widen Bucky. He worked carefully since he was going on spit alone, not wanting to hurt his desperate boyfriend.

Reaching over with his right hand, craning his neck to look up and over at the table. Bucky quickly grabbed the lube and handed it down to Steve.

Taking the tube carefully, Steve didn’t want to accidentally thrust too hard with his other hand, the man gripped the lid in his teeth and untwisted it. He spit the lid onto the floor and brought the tube down to Bucky’s passage to squeeze a generous amount over his hand, fingers, and Bucky, shoving slick lubed fingers into his lover as he kept working his fingers in and out. Finally, he slid a third finger inside with the lube, arching his fingers and pressing slightly harder as he caressed over Bucky’s prostate.

Moaning louder, Bucky reached down to wrap his arm around Steve’s neck, the limb trembling with need and desire.

Finally taking his lover’s hint, Steve slid up Bucky’s body, continuing to work his three fingers in, out, and around, scissoring and thrusting. Steve kissed up Bucky’s chest, careful not to knock the injured side, ending with his lips on Bucky’s left nipple, suckling and nipping gently. The blond slid his fingers out then back in, a fourth now joined with them.

“Please, baby,” Bucky keened, senses overstimulated by Steve’s tongue running across his nipple.

A couple of more thrusts and Steve removed his hand completely. “Ready, Sweetheart?” he asked, grabbing his own thick, throbbing member and lining up to Bucky’s passage. He switched to Bucky’s right nipple just as he thrust himself, balls deep, in one long, smooth motion. Steve held himself there, balancing his weight on his elbow.

Bucky’s arm tightened and he lifted himself up to begin kissing Steve’s neck, teeth scraping against the skin gently. His hips pushed down against Steve.

Careful to guide himself several times, Steve began thrusting slowly, taking his time to find his rhythm. He slowly let his member go, continuing to pull almost all the way out and snap back deep inside. “Bucky, love,” he moaned in the man’s neck, “God, you are so fucking hot, baby.” Steve suckled one last time on Bucky’s right nipple before nipping it lightly then moving his mouth to the brunet’s shoulder.

“Love you, Stevie,” Bucky’s hand moved down to Steve’s back, clawing at it in an attempt to bring Steve closer.

The digging of his lover’s nails into his flesh drew a low moan from Steve. After years of conditioning, Steve had developed a preference for light pain, though he’d never actually talked about _that_ proclivity. But the digging, scraping feeling sent Steve pulsing, bucking his hips so he drove into his lover, meeting his ass with heavy pounding balls. “God, Buck, yes . . . you, fuck . . .”

Moving to meet Steve’s heavy thrusts, Bucky moaned, “fuck . . . Steve! Harder . . . please!” He didn’t feel any pain, just the overwhelming feeling of fullness, and he wanted - - no, _needed_ more.

Very willing to obey, Steve thrust harder, driving his member deeply into his lover, grunting with the effort as he snapped his hips. His rhythm began to stutter, his hips to buck. His member felt fuller, thicker and needy, aching, pulsing to release his heavy load deep inside his lover’s heat. “Gonna . . . jeez, Buck, gotta . . .” he bit down lightly on Bucky’s right shoulder, licking and nipping as he thrust erratically.

Groaning loudly, Bucky’s back arched and his nails scraped down Steve’s back again as he lost himself over the edge, cumming hard across his stomach. “Fuck! Steve!”

Bucky’s hot seed all over his abdomen and thighs helped drive Steve over the edge, and he thrust deep, hard, twice then held still, pumping rope after rope of hot semen into the smaller brunet. Steve growled as he came, lips clamped over Bucky’s neck, teeth holding very lightly, amazingly controlled despite the release of the rest of his body.

Panting, skin clammy with sweat, Bucky looked up at Steve, eyes blown.

Lifting his mouth from his lover’s shoulder, Steve licked at the red bruising, the slightly broken skin. He slid himself a couple of more times in and out of Bucky’s over-sensitized hole, finally dragging out as his member lost complete erection, dragging cum and lube with him as he popped from Bucky’s hot, hungry ass. “God, Buck, I love you.”

Moving his hand to cup Steve’s cheek, Bucky smiled brightly, “I love you, too, Stevie.”

Dropping his face to Bucky’s sweaty neck, Steve inhaled and moaned lightly. “Wanna hold you forever and never let go.”

“Mhmm . . .” Bucky hummed contently, his fingers running through Steve’s sweat-damp hair. “Might take you up on that shower now,” the brunet mumbled.

“Shower,” the blond breathed and began to pull, trembling, up onto his elbows. “Gotcha,” he grinned, eyes half closed as he fought his after-haze. “Just . . . gotta . . . need . . . minute . . . walk . . .”

Laughing softly, Bucky shakily pushed himself up, right arm almost giving out under the weight but the brunet managed to sit up. Placing a gentle kiss on Steve’s shoulder, Bucky scooted to the edge of the bed.

Peeking open nearly totally blackened eyes, Steve offered a grin to Bucky, the smile reminiscent of his son’s. “Heya, Buck,” he breathed. “You . . . you wanna fool around in the shower?” His body still moved listlessly, but the spirit was willing.

Still panting slightly, Bucky grinned and shook his head, “I wanna get _clean_.”

“I can clean ya Buck,” Steve leered then leaned over, trembling, and began to lap up semen from his lover’s abdomen.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky moaned, his body still trembling and oversensitive from the lovemaking.

“Again?” Steve teased, lifting his mouth, eyes dancing. The tall blond pushed away from the brunet, rolling to the edge of the bed before pausing to try to gain more strength. He always got so damn tired after cumming, but give him half an hour, he’d perk right back up every time.

“Maybe after dinner?” Bucky laughed, “gimme a moment to catch my breath.”

“Oh,” Steve eyed Bucky’s decadently sweat and semen slick body. “I could do you for dinner,” he moaned slightly.

“Incorrigible,” Bucky smirked, “ya wanna bend me over the island? Fuck me hard?”

“Oh,” Steve’s manhood twitched at the naughty suggestion. “Never did ya in the kitchen . . .” he pushed up from the bed and sighed. “Shower?” Steve offered both hands down to Bucky, together as if they were one larger, stronger hand.

Accepting the help, Bucky let Steve pull him to his feet. “Shower,” Bucky agreed, “gotta get clean for you for later.”

“I can clean you. My specialty, cleanin’,” Steve slurred slightly, smiling. He led his lover, stumbling and slow, towards the master bath.


	19. Dinner Interupted

Bucky sat at the dining room table, Steve having kicked him out of the kitchen while he finished up with dinner. The decadent smell that wafted throughout the whole house made Bucky’s stomach growl and he carefully drank from the wine glass full of sparkling cider, since neither Bucky or Steve drank alcohol. Steve had told him that tonight was a special occasion that deserved a special drink.

Finally, sounding almost breathless, Steve called from the kitchen, “okay, coming out.” The strong blond eased backwards through the door, carrying a covered tray with a single unlit candle on it beside whatever was under the cover. He set the heavy tray down and told Bucky. “Close your eyes until I get it set up?” Steve moved the candle to the space midway between them.

Smiling softly, Bucky closed his eyes and said, “it smells really good.”

Once his lover had complied, Steve quickly removed the cover and began setting up the meal between them, the smell of roasted beef so well done it fell apart to the touch, the ends blackened to a flavorful bark, buttered asparagus tips, and au jus potatoes rising and wafting in the air, mixing with the scent of chocolate and strawberries. “Okay,” Steve said, reaching over to light the candle, careful not to knock into the bowls of strawberries and chocolate dip.

Opening his eyes, Bucky gasped quietly and said, “oh, Stevie . . . wow!” The brunet’s mouth watered, the food smelt and looked amazing; Steve had truly outdone himself. “Thank you!”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve bowed his head and slid his right hand into his pocket, flushing lightly. Slowly, he drew his large hand out and raised wide, bright blue eyes. “Bucky?” Steve’s voice sounded breathless. He drew another deep, steadying breath.

Backing away from the table, Steve knelt down and said, “James Buchanan Barnes . . . will you marry me?” He held out the box, opening it to reveal a plain platinum band with a small sapphire chip in the center of one side.

Bucky looked down at Steve with wide eyes, his breath hitched in his throat and his eyes brimmed with tears. “You - - you wanna marry me?”

Nodding, Steve swallowed then licked his lips. “Yes, Bucky. I want to marry you and spend my life growing old with you.” He paused then rushed to add, “But, Bucky, you do realize . . . uh . . . I don’t believe in divorce? It . . . it would be for forever?” Steve shook slightly with nerves.

Looking at the ring Bucky then looked at Steve: _forever_ ; Steve would stay with Bucky forever. Steve wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. “Yes! Oh my God, Steve! Yes, of course!”

“Yes?” a wide smile spread over Steve’s beautiful face. He sprang up to give Bucky an enthusiastic hug, ever mindful of the healing left side, but no less happy. “God, you . . . you’ve made me the happiest man alive, Bucky! I love you and I wanna spend the rest of our lives showing you how much I love you!”

Wrapping his arm tight around Steve’s neck, Bucky let out a loud, happy sob. “I love you, Stevie. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember!”

Steve moved his head to kiss Bucky, tilting his head to seal their lips.

Bucky returned the kiss passionately, flicking his tongue across the seam of Steve’s lips.

Opening his mouth willingly, Steve met Bucky’s tongue with his own, exploring his lover’s mouth.

Lowering his hand, Bucky ran his nails down Steve’s spine, pressing their chests flush against each other.

The light scratch drew a moan from the blond. He ripped his mouth from Bucky’s, panting. “Dinner, Sweetheart . . .”

“We can heat it up,” Bucky moaned, teeth pulling at Steve’s bottom lip.

“Oh . . . uh . . .” Steve nodded and swept the other man into his arms. “Living room or bedroom?” He asked, nipping and kissing Bucky’s neck.

“Living room. I can’t wait - - I need you. _Now_ ,” Bucky keened.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. He continued working on Bucky’s neck as he took careful steps towards the living room. Once there, Steve carefully laid his fiancee onto the couch, and chuckled, pulling back. “Wanna wear it?” He took the ring from the velvet-lined box and slid it onto Bucky’s right hand ring finger. “Beautiful!” he groaned and leaned over to begin nipping and kissing Bucky’s right shoulder.

Moving his hand under Steve’s shirt, Bucky clawed at the smooth skin, “you like this?”

Nodding, Steve whimpered. “Yeah,” he moaned and moved to Bucky’s neck. “Want ya to mark me . . . I’m your’s, Buck.”

Moaning, Bucky leaned forward, teeth biting down on Steve’s neck, sucking gently, “Mine.” Bucky breathed against the skin, licking the mark already bruising against Steve’s skin.

The blond jerked his hips, moaning loudly at the sensation filling him. He clutched at Bucky’s hips. “Buck . . .”

“I’m your’s, Steve,” Bucky moaned, hand clasping the end of Steve’s shirt to pull it off, “All yours.”

Steve ran his hands lovingly across Bucky’s body and slid his lover’s shirt up. He eased it off over Bucky’s stump and head, then tugged it from Bucky’s right arm with a grin, tossing the shirt aside. Quickly, he unfastened Bucky’s pants and removed them, caressing Bucky’s ass and the backs of his thighs, and he followed the material down, kissing and licking as he exposed more and more flesh to his questing mouth.

“Buck? I’m your’s? You own me?” Steve kissed and began to lightly nip back up Bucky’s legs, having finally pushed the material off, leaving it dangling from the couch cushion.

“We own each other,” Bucky corrected softly, moaning as Steve’s talented lips seemed to brush against his most sensitive areas.

“Can you mark me all over? Mark me inside?” Steve groaned as his mouth brushed the inside of Bucky’s thigh but skipped his groin, moving to his abdomen to kiss and nip the muscles quivering there.

Bucky’s breath hitched. Both of them switched positions quite often; however, the brunet looked down at his left side, frowning softly. How was he going to do this?

At Bucky’s lack of answer, Steve shook his head, still nipping and licking. “Don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, Buck. ‘m good.” He caressed his hands up Bucky’s thighs, letting his strong fingers rove the sensitive inner thighs.

Flushing, Bucky ducked his head, “I - - I don’t know how with only one arm, Stevie? Not something they teach in physical therapy.”

Lifting his head, blue eyes blown dark with lust, Steve frowned softly. “Why? You planning on fisting me? Never tried that, even before . . . thought I’d just ride you or something . . .”

“Oh,” Bucky blushed brighter, embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that. “Okay,” the brunet nodded.

Smiling, Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky’s lips. “You spoil me, Buck, giving me whatever I want.”

“You deserve it,” Bucky breathed against Steve’s lips, his hand moved to caress the blond’s hip.

Laughing softly, Steve lifted off Bucky so he could undress quickly. Offering his lover a wicked angel’s smile, he slid his leg back over Bucky’s waist, his crotch rubbing against Bucky’s as he moved. “Oh, you’re getting so big for me, Bucky . . .” he moaned.

“Fuck!” Bucky’s head fell back against the cushions, “Stevie - - we - -” he moaned loud, “lube . . . fuck!”

“God, yeah,” Steve slid back off his lover and trotted, buck naked and uncaring, up the steps to their room to get their bottle of _Astroglide_. While Bucky seemed to like the sensation of being filled with the ointment like tube stuff, Steve liked the almost oily slick bottled stuff. He returned quickly, erection bobbing against his abdomen as he trotted over, one hand on his member to keep from getting hurt and losing the erotic sensations. “Got it, Buck,” he moaned as he slid back onto Bucky’s hips, balls tugging heavily over Bucky’s smooth skin. He opened the bottle and held it out.

“So pretty,” Bucky keened, taking the lube. Coating his fingers generously, the brunet reached around and caressed Steve’s tight opening.

With a sharp hiss followed by a low groan, Steve leaned forward, releasing his muscles to give Bucky total access. “God, yes, Bucky, fill me . . . claim me . . .”

Pushing his finger slowly inside, stopping at the first knuckle to give Steve time to adjust, Bucky wished he had another hand to touch his fiancee all over.

Steve wriggled, almost begging for more. He used to dread being filled and fucked, but Bucky had shown him that, even while Steve taught the brunet about sex, the blond had a lot to learn about making love. And every time with his lover was a glorious lesson in sensation. “Yeah, baby, need you . . .” He leaned over to nip and lick at Bucky’s nipples, one then the other, back and forth over and over.

Continuing to push his finger further inside Steve’s passage, Bucky curled his digit slightly to rub against his lover’s prostate, caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves. “You’re mine, Stevie. Mine forever,” the brunet growled softly.

Steve’s body jerked, like always, when Bucky stimulated that erotic gland. “Yesss,” he keened. Groaning, Steve pulled his mouth from Bucky’s chest and moaned low. “Your’s, Buck, always.”

Bucky thrust his finger in and out, brushing against Steve’s prostate every few strokes, before pulling out completely and slowly adding a second finger.

“More, Buck . . .” Steve panted, once more leaning down to latch onto Bucky’s left nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” However, at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his chest, Bucky gasped and his fingers involuntarily pushed in deeper, faster than he’d normally go. “ _Christ_ , Steve!”

Steve bucked into the sharp burn and he keened. “God, yes, Bucky . . .”

Gently, not wanting to risk tearing Steve, Bucky slowly began to scissor his fingers, pulling out and pushing back in with small strokes.

The blond panted and arched; the way Bucky touched him always set his nerves on fire, beyond what he’d ever had with anyone else. “God, I love you in me, Bucky,” Steve began kissing his lover’s mouth, cupping his face, holding himself still enough so Bucky didn’t hurt his arm with the larger man sitting over him.

Deepening the kiss, Bucky’s teeth pulled and tugged at Steve’s lip as he slowly began to add a third finger. “Fuck, Steve . . . so tight.”

“Been a while, Bucky, but you can work me over. I love you working me.” He thrust onto the man’s fingers slightly, encouraging the full-feeling exploration. “You . . . you . . . God, want you so much, baby.”

“I’m right here,” Bucky breathed, licking and sucking at the previous mark he’d made. As soon as all three fingers were in, he began to open the passage wider, pressing harder against the blond’s prostate.

Keening, Steve pushed his hips down, sliding as fully as he could onto Bucky’s fingers, eyes closing and head thrown back. “Yes . . . mark me . . . show them I’m your’s!”

Pupils blown wide, only a sliver of blue remained, Bucky added a fourth digit, spreading the tight heat wider. “God, you open up so well for me, baby.”

Steve jerked and whimpered, his muscles closing around Bucky’s fingers, clenching and pulling. After a slow breath, the blond forced himself to relax once more, loosening his grip. “Want you, baby, want you deep and hard in me.”

“Okay, baby,” Bucky moaned and withdrew his fingers completely. Reaching for the lube again, Bucky thoroughly coated his throbbing member with the oily substance.

Steve panted, preparing himself. He nodded, “Bucky, yeah, fill me up with your love.” He leaned over to nip Bucky’s right nipple then sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip.

Keening, Bucky’s hips jerked and he guided his erection to press against Steve’s opening.

“Fuck me, Buck . . .” Steve breathed.

“Gotta help me out a little here, baby,” Bucky moaned and lifted his hips more, pushing steadily into Steve’s passage. “Fuck yes, God . . . you feel so good, baby.”

Steve pushed down to meet the thrust, balancing his hands on the couch arouns Bucky so he didn’t weigh on him too much.

Once fully inside his lover, Bucky moaned and rolled his hips.

“God, feel so full, Buck, you fill me just right,” Steve let his head fall back and he groaned, sliding himself up and almost off his lover’s erection then guiding himself back down, filling himself with his lover’s member. “God, Bucky . . .”

Bucky’s hand moved to Steve’s hip, nails digging into the flesh hard enough to leave marks but not break the skin. Quickly matching Steve’s pace, Bucky groaned low, “Love you, Steve.”

“Love you, Buck,” Steve groaned, lowering his head so he could meet his lover’s eyes. He kissed the brunet’s flushed, swollen lips and groaned into his mouth. Taking another long stroke, Steve stopped, holding himself with only the tip of Bucky in his ass. Blinking a couple of times, he said "oh, wait, wait, Bucky!" panting, he slid himself off his lover's member and stood with a low groan, turning towards the door leading towards the dining room. "Just recalled, gotta put the food away. Be right back."

“What?” Bucky gasped, shocked by the sudden change. He frowned and look down at his erection, the abrupt change already causing the member to wilt. With a low groan, Bucky used his hand to push off the couch.

“That beef’s gonna go bad, Buck,” Steve moved from the room as quickly as his burning, yearning body let him. He quickly began putting away the dinner they never got to eat.

Leaning against the doorway, arm crossed over his chest and a playful smirk on his lips, Bucky shook his head, his erection almost completely gone by then. The brunet shook his head softly and turned to walk back into the living room; grabbing Steve’s sweats, he pulled them on and tightened the drawstring, tying it as he’d learned in physical therapy.

Getting the food put away, except the chocolate and berries, Steve turned and walked back into the living room, surprisingly still erect. Then again, Steve hadn’t lost the image of his sexy boyfriend despite the task; he could do housework mindless by then. “Hey, Buck, sorry?” He realized instantly that he’d broken the mood. Flushing, he held out the two bowls. “Peace offering?” The nude man stood there, still erect and flushed, holding the decadent dessert.

“You’re a punk, Steve Rogers, what you just did should be illegal,” Bucky chuckled, not upset in the slightest; he’d be able to tell that story for _years_.

Flushing, Steve put the dishes on the coffee table, grabbed his shirt and spread it on the couch. He sank onto the couch, trying not to get lube everywhere.

Bucky, noting his fiancee’s erection, knelt between Steve’s legs and licked the vein that ran on the underside of the member. Taking the blond’s thick member in his mouth, Bucky sucked and swirled his tongue around the hot flesh.

Groaned loudly, Steve let his head fall back, his member pulsing in Bucky’s mouth. “God, Baby, your tongue is totally wicked.” His hips thrust slightly so Steve fought to keep still.

Hand gripping Steve’s thigh to help keep himself balanced, Bucky opened his throat and engulfed all of Steve.

“Buck!” Steve gasped, hands tightening on the couch cushion so he didn’t grip Bucky and hurt him. He was close, even with the interruption, and Steve fought not to thrust up and hurt or choke Bucky. “Damn . . .”

Looking up at Steve, Bucky produced a low humming noise, tongue swirling around the pulsing rod stretching his mouth wide open, knowing his lover was close.

Closing his eyes, Steve huffed once then opened his eyes and looked down, meeting that truly obscenely erotic look on his lover’s face, meeting those steel blue eyes, watching the brunet take Steve’s entire length down his throat. Groaning, Steve warned, “Buck . . . gonna . . .” That damned look, like an innocent that knew way too much, always drove Steve over the edge.

Bucky squeezed Steve’s thigh, letting the blond know it was okay to cum, and hummed again.

Steve kept himself from thrusting, but took Bucky’s permission to heart. He kept their eyes locked together and keened, his member pulsing then spilling over, hot jets of cum shooting rope after rope down Bucky’s willing throat. “God . . .”

After swallowing every last drop, Bucky pulled back and swirled his tongue around Steve’s spent member, making sure the flesh was clean before pulling all the way off.

Steve finally reached over and stroked Bucky’s light fuzz of hair, his body relaxing in release. “I love you, Bucky,” his voice came out soft, content.

Leaning into the touch, Bucky hummed in contentment, and said softly, “I love you, too, Stevie.”

“Want me to do you, Sweetheart?” he asked with a smile.

Bucky shook his head and on shaky legs rose to crawl onto the couch, curling up against Steve’s side. “No . . . but there are things we need to talk about before the kids come back tomorrow.”


	20. Revealing Talks

Nodding, Steve sat up straighter, forcing the lethargy out of his limbs. He rolled his neck and then nodded. “Okay, Bucky, we need to talk.” He offered a hopeful smile, worry in his eyes, but not as much as he typically held.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky began to absently stroke Steve’s thigh with his fingers, right side pressed firmly to his fiancee’s firm body. “First thing . . . why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me about Kevin? I know you said you were scared . . . but you should’ve been able to come to me with anything - - even if you turned out to be wrong . . . I could’ve helped you.” His tone was calm, not angry or upset, he wasn’t doing this to fight. They needed to talk things out without getting mad at each other. “Did I do or say something to make you not trust me?”

Steve looked thoughtful, wanting to be careful how he answered Bucky. He wasn’t trying to hide anything, but he had a habit of making things worse with his habit of tongue tying. Finally, softly, he said, “not you, Buck. I . . . I . . . sometimes I forget that not everyone is the same?” He flushed. “I _know_ you aren’t Brock, really. You would never hit me or chain me up or any of those other things. But . . . sometimes the memory takes over and wipes out any reason?” He sighed and hung his head. “That sounds crazy and stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bucky shook his head.

Relief came over Steve at Bucky’s words and he lifted his head. Hopeful, trying further, Steve added. “When Brock made me have sex with those women, I hated it. And when one of them showed up back at my apartment pregnant, Rumlow said it was his, so he could do what he wanted. I never, ever thought to question that, Buck. Then, the baby was born, and the woman . . . her name . . . I didn’t know her real name. We called her Crystal. But Crystal told me that she was afraid Brock would do something, that she never had sex with _Brock_. That’s the first time I thought that maybe I could be the father, and everything went crazy. Kevin got sold, Brock got me investigated for sexual abuse, and I wound up in traction for almost a year and physical therapy for even longer.” Steve looked down at his hands. “They still hurt, you know? They ache all the time.”

Drawing a breath, Steve pushed on. “So, when we thought about fostering, I never thought to tell you about a possible baby because I had pretty much pushed it from my mind. I never thought I’d ever see the kid, or even know, so it was better to forget.” Steve reached out and touched Bucky’s hand, hesitantly. “And then Tony had Kevin in that room when I went in, and I saw him and everything came back. And I . . . I wanted to know if he was mine. So,” Steve drew a breath and pulled his hand back to tangle with his other one, “I decided not to tell you. I . . . I thought, like the sex abuse thing, that it was just another thing that maybe Brock had lied about but I wasn’t sure. Brock _said_ he’d given the kid back to Crystal. And I thought that maybe you’d be disgusted with me for letting Brock sell a kid, if he did. And I didn’t want you looking at me like you did Brock.” Steve looked at his hands. “I figured I could wait until the test came back, and prove that I was just dreaming? That, since I was wrong, it wouldn’t hurt to wait.”

Nodding, Bucky accepted the explanation, “I wouldn’t have thought of you any different. I still don’t. You brought a beautiful, loving boy into this world . . . I could never be mad at you for that. I _overreacted_ , had I just let you explain . . . I would have never gotten in that car and - -” Bucky sighed and looked down at his left stump.

“Stop, please, Bucky,” Steve whimpered suddenly.

“I didn’t try to kill myself,” Bucky whispered, eyes falling to his lap, “in the bathroom. You asked if I was trying to kill myself. I didn’t.”

Steve met his eyes, looking worried and miserable. “I know you didn’t. But you had hurt yourself and I thought you’d keep doing it until you accidentally killed yourself.”

“Well,” Bucky said in a slightly defeated tone, “at least we don’t have to worry about me clawing up my arm again.”

Whimpering again, Steve shook his head. “Please, don’t . . .”

“Steve, we can’t pretend it didn’t happen. That I didn’t lose my arm. It’s gone.” Bucky said softly.

Standing, ignoring his own nude state, Steve shook his head and said, “Stop, just stop!” He hugged himself. “Stop fucking blaming yourself for everything. Yeah, if we hadn’t fought, no accident, no . . . whatever. But that’s a vicious cycle. If I hadn’t tried to stop Brock selling Kevin, I wouldn't have a record with child services. I wouldn’t have hands that fucking hurt every time I pick up a brush. But I can’t change what happened, and you keep telling me that it’s not my fault that Brock did that to me, even though I let him slam that window four times.”

“I’m not blaming myself!” Bucky said quickly, standing up, “I’m not . . .”

Steve walked over to his fiancee and wrapped him in strong arms, holding him close. “You said, if you had let me explain you wouldn’t have driven and got in the accident and lost your arm, so you, Buck, whether you believe it or not . . . you blame yourself.” Steve pulled away enough to look at his lover’s face, frowning. “But, I don’t want you blaming either of us. It doesn’t do anything but make things bitter. We were both wrong, and now we live with what happened. Right? We learn, we talk, we heal?”

Sighing, Bucky’s eyes brimmed tears and he nodded.

Steve kissed Bucky’s lips tenderly, a long moment before pulling back again. “So, we both blame ourselves for past mistakes, the fire, my hands, the accident. We have to learn to forgive ourselves? But what else? What else do we wanna talk about here?” He looked hopeful that this talk wasn’t just a subconscious blame fest for the both of them.

“I - - remember how you said that if I ever wanted to stop school . . I could?” Bucky looked apprehensive, eyes still shining with unshed tears.

Steve nodded. “I’d love you to get your degree, Bucky. I would be so proud. But,” he shook his head, “that degree is for you, not me. And I’m proud of you for even trying, for doing what you’ve done with Ava, for making your life what it is. So, if you feel like dropping it, make sure it’s what you want,” he cupped Bucky’s face, “and go ahead and do it.” He offered a smile.

“I like my job at the bookstore. Nat and Clint understand what we are going through . . . they know, if I need to take time off - - or whatever, I can,” Bucky rushed to add, feeling like he needed to explain more.

Nodding, Steve asked, “Bucky, honestly, do you want to drop it because you’re too stressed or because you don’t care about that degree anymore?”

“Both?” Bucky shook his head, “these last few months have rearranged my priorities . . . I want to be with the kids and you. I want to spend as much time as I can with my family . . . because at the end of the day, a degree is just paper. My family is everything, Ava . . . Kevin . . . you. You guys are what matter to me.”

Smiling softly, Steve looked happy. “Then, if you don’t care about the degree, stressed or not, you shouldn’t push for the degree. It’s not something you want or need, then why bother? Isn’t that right?”

“Right,” Bucky nodded.

“So, feel better about your decision?” Steve smiled wider.

Bucky nodded and released a deep breath, “there’s something else I have been meaning to ask.”

"What do you want to ask, Buck?” Steve guided his lover back to the couch so they could sit once more.

Sitting on the cushions, Bucky looked cautious, like he was scared to continue, “I didn’t know you were gonna propose,” he looked down at the ring on his hand and smiled softly.

Steve flushed. “I wanted to, so many times. Sam said I should wait until Becca and Ava were settled, but then the accident happened and I didn’t want to wait. I wanted you to know that I would never leave, even if you said no, you would finally believe me that I want to be here with you?”

Tearing his eyes away from the ring, Bucky looked over at Steve, and he gave his lover a watery smile. “I know . . .” he paused and bit his lip, tongue wetting his lips nervously. “Now I know you won’t leave me, that we’re forever . . . that’s why - - after we’re married . . . I’d like you to officially adopt Ava.” Bucky looked at Steve, waiting for his reaction.

“You want me to . . . And you? Are you going to adopt Ava too?” He looked wide eyed, almost overwhelmed.

“Of course, but that way if - - God forbid, something - -” Bucky started.

“If something happens, I can have her legally? That makes sense,” Steve guessed again, showing an innate wisdom.

“And she loves you, Steve. She loves you like a daddy.” Bucky smiled gently.

“You’ll become Uncle Daddy . . .” Steve teased lightly. “I’d love to adopt Ava, Buck. On one condition, and I promise it’s not something warped.”

Turning to look back at Steve, Bucky waited for him to continue, looking slightly worried.

“I want you to adopt Kevin, in case something happens to me.” Steve looked at him seriously.

Bucky smiled wide, eyes shining, “really? You sure?”

“I wanted to ask you to adopt him even if you said no to marriage, Bucky. I want him safe from anyone else, especially Rumlow. And even if I gave up my rights, if you adopted him, there was no way someone could take him away.” Steve smiled at Bucky. “Cause no one could deny you’re a hell of a parent.”

Flushing, Bucky ducked his head and shrugged, “I try - - I ain’t perfect.”

“That’s all anyone can ask, trying. Parents aren’t made, they’re grown.” Steve took Bucky’s hand in both his own. “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too, Steve,” Bucky leaned over and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, “I love you so much.”

“Do we want to cover anything else before we get our kids back, Buck?” Steve smiled and broke his grip to reach up one hand and stroke Bucky’s cheek.

“I think I said everything,” Bucky nodded, he shifted to look up at the blond, “you?”

“A couple things,” Steve said, flushing lightly.

“Well, let’s hear ‘em,” Bucky smiled encouragingly.

Nodding, Steve drew a breath. “I want advice, Buck. Rumlow wouldn’t let me tell people who I am, but . . . I really want my art in my own name.” He looked worriedly at Bucky. “I don’t wanna overwhelm the kids or anything, you know? If . . . well, Rumlow said one of the reasons to keep it private was to avoid crazy stalkers finding me and hurting my family, meaning him of course.” Steve flushed. “And I don’t want to endanger you guys . . .”

“I think it’s a great idea, Stevie . . . that way everyone will know how talented and amazing you are!” Bucky’s smile grew wide.

“Really?” Steve smiled widely and looked as relieved as Bucky had when he’d given up his schooling. “I want to talk to people about my art if they’re interested.”

“What if we talk to Nat and Clint . . . you know that spare storage room?” Bucky seemed to be thrumming with excitement.

Nodding, Steve felt excitement simply due to Bucky’s mood, on top of his own pleasure at getting the dream he really wanted.

“We can turn it into your gallery! It has a separate entrance and everything!” Bucky stated.

“Okay, but if they say no, don’t push, okay?” Steve took a steadying breath. “We can find another place if we try. But, if they want dibs, I’d love it. And I’d willingly pay them gallery fees.”

“Me? Push? I’m an angel, Stevie, I never push. I promise if they say no - - which they won’t - - but if they do, I won’t push.” Bucky shifted in his seat; he almost wanted to call his friends right then and ask, but it was late, they’d be getting the kids to bed right then.

Steve laughed and kissed Bucky’s lips. “Never push . . . okay.”

Returning the kiss, Bucky giggled, “okay, maybe I’m a little pushy.”

“Only when it’s for our good,” Steve assured him.

“What was the second thing?” Bucky asked with a smile, the brunet hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.

“Well, with all the excitement and our very therapy-inclined family, Buck, I was thinking maybe we should hold off on any more fostering?”

Snorting, Bucky nodded vehemently, “thank _God_.”

“Hey, you should have mentioned it as part of your list, if it bothered you!” Steve teased lightly, eyes laughing.

“I love kids, I do, but Ava is a princess and we are getting dangerously close to hitting her teenage years. Plus, Kevin still needs a lot of love and encouragement. I didn’t want to say anything because you were so excited to foster.”

“Okay, part of the same subject, but you have to let me link them for you . . .” Steve nodded. He decided not to challenge that Bucky could have said no at any time. This wasn’t about old blame or arguments. “I love working at the clinic, but it’s really overwhelming. I think I get too attached. I can’t emotionally do it.” The man looked at his lover. “So, I wanna quit the clinic.”

“I think that’s a good idea, especially if we are talking about opening your gallery,” Bucky nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. I want to spend my time with our family, working in the house, and doing my art. I don’t want the clinic to take any time from you guys.” Steve looked relieved. “So, the link . . .” He turned his blue eyes on Bucky. “Since I’ll be home so much, I can help out even more, like I used to. So, I was wondering, since we aren’t gonna need to spend a lot of time on another kid . . .”

“Spit it out, Steve, you’re killin’ me here,” Bucky laughed.

“Can I get Ava and Kevin a pair of kittens? Or a kitten and a puppy?” He tangled his hands together.

“Ava does like Lucky, doesn’t she?” Bucky mused, eyes narrowing in thought.

“I think she’s been doing good with chores, especially while we were in the apartment at the clinic again. And she’s old enough for the responsibility. And a pet, like a therapy animal, might help Kevin a lot.”

Bucky nodded, “alright, but I ain’t cleaning up any dog shit,” the brunet teased with a smirk.

“Well, if the dog is Kevin’s I’d be more than happy to do that bit. If it’s Ava’s, Ava cleans the shit. If it’s cats? Kitty litter duty for me and or Ava, right?” He was willing to accept that Bucky didn’t want to help with certain chores.

“Got that right,” Bucky’s eyes shone with his old spark of confidence.

“So . . . do we surprise them and choose what they’ll get or give them the choice?” Steve looked at Bucky, taking his hand and holding it happily, fingers twined.

“Surprise,” Bucky answered.


	21. All I Ever Wanted

Steve lifted the cloth napkin and carefully wiped the ketchup from where it had smeared around Ava’s mouth. “All clean, love.” The blond smiled down at the girl.

Ava smiled up at Steve, “thank you! Can I go play with Daniel now?”

“Well, there’s our announcement and my presents,” Steve said slowly.

“I got you the best present _ever_ , Steve,” Ava beamed proudly, bouncing on her heels.

“Well, I guess I can wait to open it until you and Daniel are done playing,” he said, sounding a bit mournful.

“Well, Daniel and I don’t hafta play right _now_ , we can play before the fireworks,” Ava answered happily.

“That’s a grand idea!” Steve hugged her. “Because I really want to do presents. It’s my favorite part of birthdays.”

Bucky walked into the kitchen; he still walked slightly off kilter, trying to get used to the missing weight of his left arm. However, for the first time in eight years, he wore a short-sleeved shirt, not feeling like he had to hide his scars and his family shame. “Clint is burning the burgers, saying they are better charred,” he reported with a smile.

“Yeah, well, I think _Ava_ saved room for cake,” Steve teased and headed out the door, winking at Bucky to let him know it was present time. “I mean, how many helpings does that guy need?”

“Apparently four,” Natasha said with a grin.

Not arguing that number, Steve nodded. “Well, I could use a fourth burger if there’s enough left over.” He absolutely enjoyed food, and charred grilled burgers still qualified.

Just then, Clint walked in with a platter of cheese burgers, the patties completely charred, Lucky following close behind, tail wagging and tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Want a second helping, Birthday Boy?” Clint asked offering the plate over.

“You mean fourth?” Steve grinned and helped himself to a burger. “Be delighted.” Steve sat down in the chair of honor. There was a patriotic table cloth on the picnic table in the Barnes-Rogers’ gated backyard, near an area that was being converted to a swimming pool section. Kevin sat on his feet on his chair, licking the ketchup from the top of his bun, the red sauce all over his face. Steve looked at his son and sighed, pushing up to retrieve a washcloth for the ever messy child.

Grabbing the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, Bucky looked over as Steve walked back into the house. “Whatcha need, baby?”

“Kevin found the hinge on his bun,” Steve chuckled. “I think we need to do Ava’s gift real soon. It must be hot in that kennel.” Steve kissed the back of Bucky’s neck.

Bucky nodded and softly kicked the fridge door closed, turning to set the pitcher on the island, the brunet looked over at Steve, “I’ll go grab her . . . can you take the lemonade outside?”

Nodding, Steve grinned and took the cloth and the lemonade out. He put down the pitcher and began to clean up the little blond boy. “Ava? It’s present time.” He finished with Kevin’s hands and face, pushing the burger aside and sitting down, pulling his son on his lap. He began to cut off pieces of the beef with a fork and feed Kevin that way. The boy accepted the change, happily.

“Yay!” Ava squealed and ran to sit at the table; Steve’s presents were stacked on a side table a few feet away. “You gotta open the pink one first . . . that’s from me!”

Nodding, Steve looked to see if Bucky came with the blanket covered kennel. Smiling at the sight of his lover, Steve accepted the pink gift from Riley. He opened it and lifted the gift for everyone to admire.

It was a large coffee mug, printed in bold letters on the front: _’Not Paint Water’._

“Because you drink coffee with Uncle Bucky _every_ morning!” Ava beamed proudly.

“It’s perfect. Okay, I think I don’t need any of the other gifts. Thanks everyone, but I got what I need right here,” Steve claimed, smiling.

Bucky walked up to the table, the kennel held tightly in his hand, slightly behind his legs to obstruct Ava’s view.

“Oh, but there is a gift I wanna do now,” Steve smiled. “Ava? Your Uncle Bucky and I think you are becoming very responsible.” He beamed at her.

Ava looked between the two men with large, excited eyes, “but it’s not my birthday, Steve!”

“But Hobbits give other people gifts on their birthday, so why can’t I?” Steve pointed out sounding reasonable.

Setting the kennel on the ground, Bucky took off the towel and motioned for the little girl to come look. “C’mon, Squirt.”

“We talked about it and Bucky thought you might like this best?” Steve reached down and opened the locking door. “Go ahead. She’s asleep but I think you can wake her up.”

Ava bounded over and crouched down to peer inside the kennel. “It’s a kitty! It’s so cute!”

“Yes,” Steve said, smiling. “Your Uncle Bucky picked her out just for you.”

“You can pet her, just be real gentle,” Bucky said softly, smiling down at Ava.

“She’s just a baby, Ava,” Steve added.

Reaching out with a careful hand, Ava stroked the soft silver fur, causing the kitten to open it’s bright green eyes and blink at the little girl. “She looks just like Chester!” Ava continued to pet the kitten.

“That’s what we thought,” Steve beamed happily. “Like a snow leopard.”

“Now,” Bucky said gently, still smiling, “Steve and I think you are ready for this big responsibility. You’ll have to take real good care of her.”

“That means food, and water, and brushings, and litter box,” Steve added.

Nodding, her smile only growing, Ava exclaimed, “I can take care of her! I promise!” She ran over to her uncle and wrapped her arms around Bucky’s waist, who stroked his hand through Ava’s hair.

“Good.” Steve smiled and looked up at their friends gathered around. He smiled at them. “Now, let me say . . . that Bucky has agreed to marry me and we’re planning on a spring wedding.”

Ava stepped back and looked at Steve, eyes sparkling with excitement, “you and Uncle Bucky are getting married?!”

“Yes,” Steve nodded. “We’re getting married in the spring if that’s okay with you?” He reached over and took Bucky’s hand, turning it to display his ring.

Sam let out a low whistle of approval and Natasha looked closer at the ring before nodding.

Clint grumbled and took out his wallet, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and handing it to his wife. “I thought it’d be a Christmas wedding . . .”

“Why you even bother anymore is beyond me. I am always right,” Natasha grinned and slipped the bill into her back pocket.

Riley reached over and hugged Bucky. “Congrats, Bucky.” He hugged Steve, “Steve.” He grinned widely.

“Thank you,” Bucky flushed, but he was smiling brightly.

Finally, Steve reached over and tugged Bucky to sit on his lap. “We’ll be one big family,” he smiled happily, kissing Bucky’s neck.

Turning to kiss Steve’s lips, Bucky breathed, “forever.”

“My Bucky!” Kevin interrupted with a laughing shout. His therapy had begun to help him express himself. The boy wasn’t always afraid of making noise.

“My Bucky,” Steve breathed, and kissed his fiancee long and passionately.

“Unless you wanna bend me over this table, I’d stop,” Bucky whispered low, his voice heavy with desire.

“Ha,” Steve pulled back. “I would but I don’t give free shows.” He didn’t explain his comment, but the adults seemed to fully understand.

“Can I play with my kitty? I wanna show her my room!” Ava asked, crouching again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded. “Why don’t you and Daniel bring her in to get a nice drink of water. She’s got to be hot in that kennel. She’s not allowed to walk around outside, Ava. She’s an indoor only kitty so she doesn’t get hit by a car.”

Very carefully, Ava picked up the kitten and carried her inside the house, calling, “C’mon Daniel! We gotta show her my room!”

Daniel trotted behind his best friend, smiling and looking forward to playing with the bundle of fluff. “Right behind you,” he confirmed.

Once the older kids had disappeared, Steve smiled at the adults. “Bucky and I are gonna adopt Ava and Bucky’s adopting Kevin. We’ll be a real family.” He hugged his lover.

Leaning back against Steve’s chest, Bucky nodded, “that way nothing can separate us, no crazy ex’s or sister’s. Nothing.”

Clint nodded. “Now, that’s a great idea.” He grinned and sat down at the picnic table.

“Clint and I are also adopting Daniel, we just put in the papers yesterday, actually,” Natasha smiled as she scooted closer to her husband.

“Great,” Steve chuckled. “That’s wonderful! That kid adores you.”

Riley nodded. “So, what about these other gifts, Steve, or is that mug really all you want?”

Steve looked at Bucky, rather than Riley, and said, quite clearly, “No, I have all I ever wanted right here in my arms.” And he kissed his fiancee once more.


End file.
